At The Heart of Courage
by carrytheotter
Summary: This story follows Ron & Hermione as they begin to heal following the Battle of Hogwarts. And while they have reached the finish line of the horcrux hunt, their challenges are nowhere near done. As they stand on the brink between adolescence and adulthood, they wrestle with understanding love, relationships, grief, pride, commitment, forgiveness and courage in all of its forms.
1. Chapter 1

**_Before I get started:_** I have been playing with this story for a long time now. And, while I still haven't completed it, I've decided to begin to share it with all of you. After spending almost a year with the Ron & Hermione from "Unexpected Family Magic," it was a challenge to get back into the head-space of the much younger, much more recently traumatized Ron & Hermione immediately following the Battle of Hogwarts. But, as I wrestle with issues and themes I see in my own life and reflected in the world in all of its insane reality these days, the questions of grief, forgiveness, love, courage, commitment, self-doubt, responsibility, connection and hope have been forefront in my heart and mind. And, at least from my perspective - Ron and Hermione must have been drowning in a storm of those same emotions in May of 1998.

Reviews, feedback, etc - I love it, welcome it and hope for it! I really do love to hear your comments. As this story is more than 150,000 words so far, obviously much is already written (if not finely edited), so please don't take it personally if I don't incorporate your idea or get back to you right away. I can't always reply - but I read every comment and message. I am so grateful you take the time to read my stories!

I'm not JKR, I don't own these characters. But I am grateful she lets us play with them.

I hope you enjoy...and now, on to chapter 1...

 **Chapter 1**

Ron stood in the quiet kitchen, hearing nothing but the dripping sink and the wind rustling the trees outside. The moon was almost full, and its beams streamed through the kitchen so brightly that there was no need for a lantern. The house was quiet, which in its own way was disconcerting. He could never remember the house being quiet growing up – not even when it had been just him and Ginny. There had always been something bustling - his mum's charmed knitting needles click-clacking away making Christmas jumpers or the cutlery charmed to chop the potatoes for supper. And always, always, the whirring of the family clock had been there, an auditory foundation to the house and the family. But now it was silent.

A lump formed in his throat as he looked up at the space on the wall where it had stood until just the day before yesterday. Following Fred's funeral two days prior, George had been brought back into the house, and - in what everyone presumed to be a fit of grief-induced accidental magic – the clock had suddenly pried itself from the wall, the gears wrenched themselves off and the whole thing shattered into tiny pieces. No one had even had the heart to comment on it. Someone, he was betting on Hermione or Fleur, had quietly cleaned it all up. All that remained was an outline of the clock on the wall where the paint that had been hidden behind it hadn't faded over the years. Well, that, and silence.

Sighing, he looked around the strangely silent kitchen. As he sat he thought the silent emptiness of the room might actually suffocate him. It was almost as if the room was a fake replica of the home he had known. Like a muggle painting where there was no life to be seen in the image – just a still frame. While there was a kettle on the hob where Ginny had left it before going to bed, it contained no water, let alone a steaming kettle of reassurance. The biscuit tin was on the counter, but it was long empty, with even the crumbs shaken out by someone. The sink was empty of pots and pans not because they had been cleaned and put away, but because no one had used them to cook anything. The kitchen felt like a hollow shell, and so did his heart. Still crushed by the silence, he felt compelled to take a gasp of air and force oxygen into his lungs.

The last ten days had been so surreal. Between cleaning up the school after the battle, dealing with Kinglsey and the Ministry officials, securing and cleaning The Burrow, trying to help his family and attending way too many damn funerals, he really hadn't had a minute to himself to breathe let alone begin to put together anything resembling thoughts on everything that had happened. And he knew grief was not the only overwhelming emotion churning through him. There were such extreme feelings at all ends of the spectrum that it was almost impossible to hold them all in his mind and heart at the same time.

From the moment Voldemort fell, it was as if he'd been caught in some sort of tidal wave of crowds. From that first moment they'd been surrounded by family and friends and students and professors. They'd been overwhelmed by people bleeding, crying, hugging, smiling, dying, weeping and heeling. And while so many people had so many questions, they hadn't really had much chance to go over the details with his family or the Order. And he certainly hadn't been able to have any time alone with Harry and Hermione either since the fighting had ended. It was strange, for months his whole world had been only those two people. And he went stir crazy trying to get snippits of news about the outside world. But then they were suddenly catapulted back into the world and now he desperately missed their time alone. And at the same time, he thought, he also just wanted to be alone with Hermione and figure things out, whatever "things" meant. It was mad to miss someone who was right there living in the same house as him, but he missed her anyway. Just like he missed George and his mum. They were there, but not, all at the same time. And it was completely different than the pain from missing Fred, but it was still painful.

He knew his older brother was gone. And while it hurt like hell and made it hard to breathe sometimes, he understood it. The crazy two-eared prankster was gone, frozen forever in time as a jovial young man struck down too soon. And "FredandGeorge" were sure as hell gone. And George might not be dead, but the George Ron had known was gone. George and his mum were both so overrun with grief that it felt as if they were dead somehow too. Except for the funeral he didn't think either had left their rooms at all. All they did was sleep – or pretend to anyway.

But then Hermione... Just at the thought of her Ron felt himself sigh and rub his eyelids trying to make sense of everything. She had kissed him. She had bloody well _kissed_ him in the middle of the battle because he'd asked about house elves. House elves! Blimey, just thinking of it made him unconsciously move his hand to his lips in memory of the moment. He'd been both thrilled and terrified at the same time. Thrilled, well, obviously thrilled, but scared that she was saying goodbye.

And after the battle when they were still at Hogwarts, they had been able to just be together and it had felt so right. Ridiculously natural. Like what the hell had they been thinking the past 7 years. They'd sort of just melded into each other as if they had been doing that all along. It had been nothing past holding hands and a few tender kisses really, but the physical connection had been undeniable. And it had made him feel like maybe he could survive the tragedy around them. And in the midst of the hordes of people after the battle, her hand had felt like a lifeline to him. He hadn't worried about trying to solve everything then because he knew they now had time for all of that. But – but, then they came home, and they never actually got to have a moment alone together. And he began to question and re-think everything – had it just been the adrenaline of winning? Was it pity? Did she regret it? Had he just been delusional thinking more was possible?

He'd been so overwhelmed with caring for his family and their home while planning Fred's funeral and attending so many others than he had more or less gone on autopilot. He couldn't allow himself to think about anything, he'd just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. He couldn't allow himself to crumple under the grief or despair as he was quite sure that once he did he wouldn't be able to get back up.

But the last of the funerals had been earlier that day. It had been little Collin Creevey's funeral, which was a real gut punch to all of them. They casket had been felt so small. And the funeral had been a muggle one, of course, and it had just felt ridiculous to nod and smile sadly while all of his muggle relatives heard how Collin had died in a terrible car accident. He had died a hero, but the situation just didn't allow most of his friends and family to know that. Which was utter shite.

When Ron had come home from Collin's funeral that evening, he finally allowed himself to think that his public role in this nightmare could finally be done. He didn't have to shake more hands or listen to people give condolences or thank you's or ask about what they had been doing all this time. He could finally just turn inward to take care of those he loved the most. But as he'd observed everyone at The Burrow as he'd thought about it that evening, he realized what bad shape everyone was really in. Not physically – well, they didn't seem too bad anyway. Burns and cuts were healing. Bones seemed to have regrown. Hermione still had some episodes of muscle pain and weakness, but that seemed to be improving too. When he'd looked at Ginny, he'd felt pangs of guilt as he realized how much she had been through that year. And Gin was flatly refusing to let Harry out of her site if at all possible. Harry, for the most part, seemed ok with that. While he was doing the typical Harry thing of brooding and feeling responsible for everything bad that had ever happened, he really just looked hungover. Like he was finally emerging from a deep fog and trying to figure out where he was and what the hell had just happened. And while both Ginny and Harry looked rough, they looked a little better each day. The dark circles under their eyes were still prominent, but they seemed to fade just the tiniest bit each day. But then there was Hermione. Hermione was most assuredly NOT looking better. Every day he would hope things could turn around, but it was like watching her fade in front of him. And it terrified him.

Ron sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and placed his face in his hands. He curled his bare feet against the worn wooden floor thinking of how many times Fred had done the same thing. He looked at his pale feet there in the dark kitchen, glowing in the reflected moonlight coming from the window. Fred used to tease him about his giant feet. He'd always said Ron was like a puppy who needed to grow into his oversized paws. He smiled thinking of his brother and sent up a silent prayer that he was ok, and that he would keep taking care of George from wherever he was.

He stretched his arms straight over his head as he yawned and arched his back, cracking several joints back into place. He cast a tempus charm and realized it was just after 3 am. While his body felt exhausted and heavy, his mind was churning, and he knew sleep wouldn't come. Anyway, it was easier to be awake downstairs than laying in his bed picturing horrible things in his mind or listening to Harry fight off his own nightmares – or worse – have dreams about his little sister. Ugh. Now he had to get that thought out of his head.

He stood up and decided that maybe he'd make biscuits to fill the tin back up. Wasn't like his mum was going to do that anytime soon, as she barely left her bed these days. She was only a shell of her former self right now. But, Ron was still holding out hope that it was still temporary.

He cast a one way silencing charm around the kitchen so he wouldn't wake anyone who had been able to sleep and then started to pull out the pots and ingredients he thought he'd need. Of course, as he did this it occurred to him that he didn't actually know how to make biscuits as his mum had always made them. But, he smirked, ignorance, inexperience and lack of planning had never really stopped him from trying things before, so he rummaged through a pile of old cookbooks in the pantry and found several recipes that 1) looked like something he'd eaten before and 2) had enough stains and smudges on the page that he was certain his mum had actually used the recipe at some point. Setting his sights on the page labeled "Cinnamon Sugar Biscuits," he went about collecting the rest of needed ingredients, even donning his mum's orange pinny in an attempt to channel her talents. He mostly ignored the directions and spells in the book and simply dumped the various ingredients into the bowl to stir together. Looking at the wet, lumpy concoction in the bowl before him, he realized that, just like potions, there probably was a bit more to it than throwing it all in the cauldron. But, he also figured that if he put enough cinnamon and sugar on top, no one would complain anyway.

He was picking egg shell bits out of his batter when he heard quiet footsteps walking on the old wooden stairs. He looked up to see if anyone was coming downstairs or if it was someone simply headed to the loo. Much to his pleasant surprise Hermione walked into the kitchen. The fact that she was in thin pajama bottoms and his old Cannons shirt temporarily took his breath away.

Regaining his voice he offered an awkward, "Hi," as he attempted to wipe any wayward flour off of his face.

Her face morphed from shock to amusement in a fraction of a second. "What on earth are you doing?" she laughed in a whisper.

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged. "And, it just seemed wrong for the biscuit tin to be empty around here, so I thought I would make something to fill it up with."

She stared at him in entertained disbelief for a moment before she shook her head as if shaking the tired fog away.

"Need any help?" she offered.

He gave her a lopsided grin and nodded. She found another pinny of his mum's in the cupboard and joined him at the counter. He sheepishly showed her the bowl of thrown together ingredients, and he could tell she was trying very hard not to laugh.

While practically biting her lips to keep from openly laughing, she asked, "Have you ever actually made biscuits before, Ron?"

He laughed, "I would think the answer to that question was a bit obvious."

She unsuccessfully tried to restrain her amusement. "Merlin knows I am not at home in a kitchen, but I have actually made biscuits before, though admittedly it was the muggle way. May I?" she asked, reaching for the bowl.

"Please," he sighed. "Maybe we should just chuck that batch and start over."

She looked as if she would protest for a moment, but soon nodded. "You're probably right."

"I know," he said avoiding her eyes. "Feels weird to be throwing food away after we were so hungry for so long. It's like my brain hasn't realized yet that the starving time is over."

She nodded. "You're right, of course," she said thoughtfully. "It's like the body is still reacting as if it's starving or threatened even though rationally I know we're not. I've found myself tucking a roll into my jumper sleeve without even realizing it. And the weird thing is I do that when I'm not even hungry. I didn't even eat that roll. I think I just needed to know it was there. Totally bizarre. Not sure when I'll feel normal again. "

"Hmph," Ron scoffed with a breath. "I'm not sure any of us are normal. Let's face it. If we were, we probably wouldn't be up at three in the morning baking biscuits now, would we?"

"No. No, I suppose we wouldn't," she said sadly.

Silence settled around them as she vanished the first attempt at the recipe, and they set up to start over. She started measuring the dry ingredients out while he watched her work.

"Do you think that feeling of being constantly on edge will ever go away?" she asked meekly.

Ron eyed her carefully, not completely sure where she was going with this. But before he could answer she handed him an empty bowl, a sifter and a bowl of dry ingredients.

"Here – sift these," she said.

The questioning raised eyebrow and blank expression let her know he didn't know what sifting was, so she laughed and demonstrated the technique for him.

"Huh. S'like snow. Don't know that I get why you have to make the flour flurry about like this for biscuits, but it's kinda fun," he shrugged.

"It's lovely, actually. Quite therapeutic I suppose. Something calming. Can't imagine we could just sift things all the time, though, huh?"

"Probably not," he said softly. "But I'll take it for tonight."

She looked at him and smiled but didn't say anything.

He smiled back at her and said, "and to answer your other question, I'm not sure. I'm confident things will get better for each of us at some point. That it won't be so raw, I guess. But," he paused for a moment searching for his words. "But it is really hard to even imagine a time where I could feel safe putting my wand down somewhere and walking about the room without it."

She stopped her mixing for a moment and looked down at her bowl of butter, sugar and eggs, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the thought.

She finally said in the faintest of whispers, "No. I can't imagine that either."

He nodded as finished the last of his sifting, and then in a much more upbeat tone he declared, "OK. Successfully sifted, I hope. Now what?"

"Now we mix your bowl into mine," she said turning to get a spoon. Turning back she yelped, "No! Not all at once!"

But it was too late. He had flipped the bowl upside down over hers, and the cloud of flour dust poofed into the air, covering both of them and much of the counter in the fine white powder.

Hermione froze in momentary shock as she was coated in powder. Her eyes had instinctively squeezed shut, and she opened them slowly and surveyed the mess around them. Both of their faces were covered in a chalky mask, as was their hair, the counter and the floor. Though, shockingly, a lot of it did somehow manage to get into the bowl.

"Yeah, I get why it shouldn't be all at once now," Ron laughed.

"Brilliant," she smirked. "Glad that's a lesson we don't have to repeat then," she said as she chuckled and shook her head, causing flour to fall all around her.

"See, this is a moment where our paranoia is helpful. I just happen to have my wand on me, and I can just clean us right up," he said with a flick of his wrist.

"So maybe our paranoia will pay off in the end," she said with a wistful chuckle as the flour vanished from the counter.

"Oh, I think it's already paid off," Ron said. "I mean, we'd both have been goners many times over without it, yeah? Now we just have to learn to believe that being safe is the default, not being in danger."

"I'm not quite there yet," she said as she wiped her face with a tea towel.

"Me either," he conceded as he dusted off as well. "Few too many Death Eaters out there who'd love to have the last word."

She flicked her wand to siphon off the remaining floury mess from both of them and then stirred the bowl, incorporating the remaining pile of flour into the wet batter.

"It won't ever be the same, will it- as it was before," she said, more as a statement than a question.

He eyed her carefully, feeling something shift in the air between them, but unsure exactly what it was.

"Mostly not," he said carefully. "But I hope that some things won't be all that different. And maybe some things will be different but in a good way."

She looked up at him as she finished mixing the batter. She stared at him a moment, and then he noticed a miniscule shake of her head, as if she had decided against saying something or was trying to shake a thought from her head.

After another moment she gave him a smile and said, "Time to scoop these onto the pans."

He nodded silently, fetched the baking sheets, and then copied her movements as she began to scoop out the dough, roll it into a ball and then roll the ball through the mixture of cinnamon and sugar before placing them on the pans. They worked in comfortable silence and then placed the trays into the warm oven. Ron began to clean up their mess as Hermione cast a time charm to alert them in eleven minutes.

"Smells amazing already," he grinned as he set the pots to scrub in the sink.

"That mixture of cinnamon and vanilla has always been one of my favorite smells," admitted Hermione, suddenly blushing. She glanced up hastily but breathed a sigh of relief when she realized he hadn't caught the reference to his shampoo.

She watched him finish cleaning up and wiping down the counters. "Tea?" he offered.

"Please," she nodded.

He busied about with the kettle and mugs as she took a seat at the table, and he soon brought the steaming mugs of tea to where she was sitting. They each took a sip and scrunched up their noses in distaste.

"Sorry 'both that," Ron laughed, switching the mugs. "I gave you the sugared-up-one by mistake."

She laughed and sipped the other mug, nodding. "This is more like it."

She looked back at him, laughed, looked down and blushed, hoping he hadn't noticed. But she wasn't that lucky.

"What?" he laughed.

She took a deep breath and set her mug in the table. Then with her right hand she gently ran her thumb across his cheek under his left eye. He stared at her, not daring to breathe or blink, her touch searing like lightening into his skin.

"It's just you have a bit of flour just next to your nose right there," she said almost breathlessly.

Without thinking, his hand immediately went to his face, holding her hand against his cheek. He looked at her, close enough that he could feel her breath against his skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. As he opened his eyes again, he stared right into her swirling chocolate eyes, and neither looked away.

In a deep, raspy voice barely above a whisper, he said, "You know, Hermione, there are some things that I don't want to go back to how they were before the war."

"No?" she breathed.

"No," he said as their lips inched towards each other, his hand still pressing her palm to his cheek. Just as their lips were about to graze, the bell from the tempus charm went off, buzzing and chiming to alert them to the now-baked biscuits.

They both burst into laughter, cheek against cheek, Hermione's forehead falling against his shoulder as she chuckled.

"Bloody hell," he said shaking his head as he stood and quickly took the trays of biscuits out of the over. "There really can't be two people in the history of the universe with worse timing than us."

She was grinning, and had gotten up to stand next to him at the counter. He took off the oven mitts covered in a pattern of hearts and brooms and they grabbed spatulas to move the warm biscuits from the pans to the cooling rack.

Ron was trying hard to get one of the biscuits from the corner of the pan onto the spatula, but it broke in two. Immediately he moved his hand to try and push it onto the kitchen tool but ended up burning his finger instead.

"Bloody hell!" he yelped as he shook his finger and immediately sucked on the burn to try to cool it.

"Language, Ron," she chided in a teasing tone. "Come on, now. A biscuit burn can't be nearly as bad as fiendfyre."

He gave a huff of defeat, but continued sucking on his burned finger.

"And you know what?" Hermione continued as she inched closer to him. "I think that there's bound to be someone out there with worse timing than us."

"Not bloody likely," he mumbled, finger still in his mouth. "We are pretty spectacular in that area."

"Well, I'll give you that," she said as she slowly pulled his finger out of his mouth to examine his burn. She kissed it lightly and then blew on it, sending shivers up Ron's spine as he felt time freeze in front of him. "And speaking of spectacular, I must say," she added in a breathy voice. "I have never seen any man look so spectacular in a pinny as you do right now."

"Oh is that so?" he smirked, his ears turning red. "I quite like it, actually. Worked, dinnit? The best chef is a messy chef."

"Well, then you must be the very best there is. Guess you win that one too," she teased.

"I think I am winning in a lot of things right now," he smiled back, his tone deepening as the air between them changed once again.

"Me too," she sighed.

Their eyes were locked, and he felt them moving ever so slowly closer to each other, his hand finding her hip as he pulled her gently towards him.

"I've missed you," he said earnestly. "I've missed this."

"Oh, Ron, I've missed us too," she sighed as he bent to kiss her.

The kiss started slow, sensual and soft, finally having this moment for just the two of them alone. One of his hands slid up from her hip to run his fingers through her hair as his other hand pressed tightly to her lower back, causing her to arch up towards him. She had risen onto her tiptoes, and one of her hands found its way up to the back of his neck while the other softly held his face. But then his tongue passed her lips, and her leg rose up, pulling him even closer, and in a flash their moment went from sweet to passionate. His hands flew to her bum, lifting her up to the counter where they could be at the same height. She whimpered in pleasure as he ran his hand up her thigh while kissing her pulse point. But just as she took his ear in her mouth, they heard footsteps on the stairs and flew apart, Hermione jumping down from the counter and tucking her hair behind her ear.

By the time Arthur walked into the kitchen, Ron was placing the freshly baked biscuits on a plate while a blushing, chuckling Hermione was fussing with the pans in the sink.

"Ron! Hermione! What are you two doing up so early? Or is it so late? I guess I don't even know anymore," mumbled Arthur as he moved towards the kettle.

"I couldn't sleep," shrugged Hermione, wiping her mouth subconsciously with the back of her hand. "And when I came down for tea I found Ron attempting to bake biscuits."

"Yeah. She stepped in and rescued the whole operation. As usual, her timing was..." he smirked as he glanced at her still swollen lips, "spectacular. Let's just say that without her help the biscuits would have been too crunchy from the eggshells for even me to eat."

Arthur made a face. "Well, thank you for stepping in and alleviating that disaster, my dear," Arthur said teasingly to Hermione who was blushing.

"What are you doing up this early? It's what, not quite 5 or so?" Ron asked.

"Oh, who knows? Partly because I can't sleep either. But partly because there is just so much to do. Kingsley needs so much help at the Ministry, so I have been trying to go in early each day. And Percy does the same. But, he floos here and usually has tea and toast with me first, and then we go in together."

"I didn't know he was doing that," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I'm glad you two are finding some time together. Probably good for you both. Here. We'll make you a proper breakfast. Ron, pour your father some tea, please. And then you can set the table."

Ron nodded and did as instructed, reaching for his father's favorite mug in the cupboard and pulling down one for Percy as well. Arthur stifled a chuckle as he watched his son jump to follow Hermione's directions. Within a few minutes Percy had arrived through the floo and joined them in the kitchen where Hermione had whipped out eggs, toast, bacon and tomatoes for them. Soon Arthur and Percy headed off to work. Ron thought he and Hermione might have another moment alone once they cleaned up breakfast, but it wasn't to be as Harry and Ginny soon came downstairs. But, he took comfort in the very subtle, yet incredibly fucking sexy way Hermione ghosted her fingers over his back as she moved behind him in the kitchen while they were chatting with Harry and Gin as they ate. And, even as he and Harry set out to de-gnome the garden before it got too warm, he looked back and almost felt his knees buckle as he saw the stare she gave him with her dark eyes, and fuck if she hadn't licked and then bitten the bottom left side of her lip in the sexiest way he could have possibly imagined. He shook his head as he went out to the garden, trying to assure himself that they would have time now. Even if their spectacular timing was still utter shite.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Ron lay awake in his bed at The Burrow listening to Harry snore lightly. He was exhausted from barely even dozing the last few nights, but sleep was still not coming. He was tempted to get up and roam around the kitchen on the off chance he could run into Hermione like he had a few days before, but he knew he really did need to try to fall asleep if he was going to be any good the next day. So, he turned onto his side and tried to take deep breaths to clear his mind. The moon illuminated the room so brightly that there was a faint orange glow from the moonlight bouncing off of the walls. It was so strange being back in his childhood bedroom, practically glowing a cheery orange. In this still space it was if the past year hadn't happened. But of course it had. And it had changed everything.

He wasn't the same person anymore. Not really. He realized Hermione had been the one to point it out to him months ago. His thoughts drifted back to a conversation he'd had with Hermione about a week after he had finally made his way back to them after Christmas. While Harry had been quick to forgive him and welcome him back, the reception from Hermione had been decidedly more punishing. For that first week she would only speak to him directly if there was no way to avoid it. It had driven him mad, but he had been absolutely committed to waiting her out. He'd known he deserved every ounce of punishment she dished out, but it didn't make it easier to take.

He had gotten up in the middle of the night to make Harry give him her shift on a night watch. He'd known she'd be furious, and in some ways he'd hoped she would be because in order to yell at him she would have had to acknowledge he was there. And he'd been right on at least some of it. She had been furious.

Just before dawn he'd heard her throw open the flap of the tent. With her mug of tea she'd made her way over to the fallen tree trunk where he sat. Ron had just remained seated there, deciding he wasn't going to walk away. He had done more than enough walking away from her to last a lifetime. He'd reasoned she might not be ready to talk to him, but he would've taken just being near her for a while if she'd have let him. So, he'd stayed still on the log, watching the horizon slowly lighten, scanning the trees around them, and spending more than a little time just watching her out of the corner of his eye. She'd grown increasingly frustrated at his lack of exit. The red flush that came up her neck when she was angry had crept up from the neck of her jumper, and her breathing had been punctuated by huffs and sighs. But he'd remained still. Finally, he'd noticed she had put her face into her hands and turned her body so he could no longer see her face. But he still didn't move until he saw her shoulders begin to shake like he knew they did when she was crying.

He'd sighed, rubbed his hand across the stubble along his jaw and finally stood up, walking over to her. Crouching down in front of her, he'd placed his hand on the log right next to her leg, careful to not touch her. She'd turned her face even further away from his, straining to ignore his presence as much as possible. And even now in his childhood bedroom he could remember every single word of that conversation.

"I've said it before, and I will say it again. I am so, so sorry," he'd said quietly. "I will never forgive myself and certainly don't expect you to ever forgive me either. I would never deserve that. Could never deserve that. And I am sitting here because I promised you and myself that I would never walk away from you again. But I don't want to make you cry either."

She'd continued to look away from him, trying painfully to pretend he wasn't so close that she could feel his breathe on her with each word he spoke. He'd sighed, collecting his thoughts a moment before continuing.

"Hermione, I don't know what to do to make this less awful. I fucked up royally. And I can't undo that. If I could I would. But since I can't - all I want to do is spend every minute making this whole damn thing just a little less hideous for you. But right now I can't seem to even let you have a full night's sleep without making you cry. I'm sorry, Hermione. For so much. Once we see this thing through if you never want to see me again, then I'll have to accept that. But until then please, please let me help you. Please let me make this easier for you. Or at least less awful. I'll do anything you want. Just tell me what you want."

He'd sat back on his haunches carefully watching her reaction. In the frigid January morning he could see her breath with each exhale, and she'd clearly been trying to control her breathing as she'd considered her response. He'd stayed there for several minutes, watching her breathe in and out, trying to stifle her coughs and hide the tears that were spilling from her eyes. Finally, Ron had concluded she only wanted him to go back to the tent and leave her alone, so he'd slowly stood to walk back. He had taken several steps across the frozen bed of leaves on the forest floor when he'd heard her small voice which froze him in his place.

"Like what I want is even possible," she'd muttered angrily under her breath.

He'd walked back over to where she was, crouching again in front of her, but this time as he squatted down in front of where she sat, he'd reached out his hands to balance against the log, letting one hand graze her leg as the other reached for her hand. At the contact she'd visibly flinched, but she hadn't pulled back.

"What do you want, Hermione?" he'd asked in a sincere voice trying desperately to get her to look him in the eye.

After what had felt like an eternity, she'd turned to him, fiercely wiping a tear from her cheek with the frayed cuff of her wool jumper as she finally let her red rimmed, tear filled eyes look into his.

"What I want," she'd spat in a short, angry-yet-controlled whisper, "is impossible to have. What I want is gone, Ronald. And I don't think it is possible to ever get it back."

He'd gently stroked his thumb across the back of her hand for a moment and then quietly asked, "Will you tell me what it was?"

She'd taken a deep breath and let it out in a slight shudder as the tears began to fall faster across her cheek.

" _I want_ to get out of this disgusting tent, take a hot bath and be cleaner than I have been in months. _I want_ to lose myself in a library and read books about good things – not to solve some bizarre quest and take down a nearly immortal psychopath, but because it is fascinating to learn or fun to escape into the stories. _I want_ to sleep without gripping my wand under my pillow. _I want_ that constant hollow pain of hunger to go away and to not have to ration each bite of bread for fear of running out. _I want_ to walk through this wood without listening for every snap of every twig fearing for what it could mean. _I want_ to know my parents are ok and have them remember me and forgive me. God, the idea of any one of those things could practically fuel a patronus. But, do you know what I want more than anything else?"

She'd been as angry as he'd ever seen her. Her cheeks were flaming magenta, and as he'd known painfully well, the tone of her voice signaled she had long passed fury and was now moving into precisely controlled rage. And it had all been directed at him. He'd gulped slowly, oddly noticing how her eyes flickered down to stare at his Adam's apple as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Please tell me," he'd said, once again capturing her gaze.

"What I want more than _any_ of that is to have _my best friend_ back. There is only one person in this whole ridiculous world who understands me better than I do. There is only one person who knows what a blessing and a burden it is to be the best friend of the sodding Chosen One. There is only one person who knows how to get me out of my own head to laugh and to live. _I want him back_. He did not leave two months ago. And he most assuredly did _not_ come back last week. He hasn't been here since the day we got that horrific, revolting, ghastly locket. And I am absolutely _terrified_ I will never see him again."

He'd stared at her, not fully following what she was getting at, which, admittedly, was a familiar sensation. So, relying on a well-practiced tactic, he'd simply waited for her to continue.

She'd seen his lack of comprehension and rumbled in frustration at his polite and patient response. He'd felt his anxiety grow as she'd whipped out her wand to cast a silencing charm around them. Then, in what he'd realized was possibly the most un-Hermione-like thing he had ever seen her do, she'd practically growled and chucked her still half-full mug of tea against the pine tree next to where they sat, shattering it against the bark. When the pieces had fallen to the leaf-covered floor, and the only sign of the outburst was the steam still rising from where the hot tea had splashed against the trunk, he'd still been unsure if he should speak. Beating him to it, she'd shifted on the log to look directly at where he was squatting. In one swift movement, she'd taken both hands, shoved his shoulders with all her might and sent him falling back on his arse into the wet, frost covered leaves.

"I want _my Ron_ back," she'd screamed, standing up to glower down at him on the ground. " _My Ron_. Not the possessed-by-the locket-Ron I lived with all fall. Not the Ron who abandoned me. And not this pretend-overly-perfect-always-walking-on-eggshells-and-trying-too-hard-Ron. I want _my Ron_ back. _My Ron_ , who talked with his mouth full and used foul language and pestered me to do his essays. I want _my Ron_ who was without a doubt the kindest, most generous and most self-sacrificing person I knew. I want _my Ron_ who could disarm me with a look or tell a joke that made me laugh when I didn't even know I needed to. I want _my Ron_ back because he would fight back. He's the only one who ever cared enough about me to fight back. I want my best friend back because I cannot do this without him. But I don't know that he even exists anymore. And I...I...I miss him desperately."

At that she'd broken into sobs as he'd immediately jumped up and engulfed her in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. And while her sobs broke his heart, he'd been relieved and overjoyed that she was not only willing to have him back but that she _wanted_ him back. And she thought of him as hers.

"Merlin, I've missed you Hermione. So, so much. You are my best friend," he'd sniffed as he tried not to let the tears fall from his own eyes. "I'm so sorry. Fuck, I've missed you."

"Language, Ronald," she'd said in a muffled voice against his chest.

Hearing this had made his heart soar, and he'd actually felt a laugh in his chest for the first time in months. "There's _my Hermione_ ," he'd said with a grin which somehow felt foreign on his face.

He'd felt her chuckle a bit between her sobs, but he didn't lessen his hold on her one bit and she hadn't tried to pull away. He'd clung to her, burying his face into her curls and slowly rubbing circles on her back to try and calm her. Eventually she had caught her breath. Then he'd placed one hand gently against her cheek to wipe away some tears, but had left it there as he'd looked in her eyes.

"I am so, so sorry you have had to face all of this alone. I will never be able to even remotely make up for how royally I have fucked everything up. But I promise you, I am back. I am back for as long as you will let me stay. I may have grown up a bit from all of this. And I may be walking on egg shells right now. But I can absolutely guarantee you it's still me. It is still the foul mouthed, bad table manners, gangly ginger you've sparred with since you were eleven years old. And while I am trying to be more helpful, and to not put my foot in my mouth quite as much as usual, I promise you I will still irritate you to no end, and we will still row about ridiculous rubbish. But I am back. And I am _never, ever_ walking away from you again."

At that her tears welled again, which initially caused him to panic, but then she'd placed her hand over his which was still holding her cheek. "Promise?" she'd asked weakly.

"Promise," he'd said.

He'd felt her sigh in relief and give a tiny hint of a smile before she rested her head back against his chest. He was sure she'd hear his heart pounding– a mixture of fear, adrenaline and the absolute rush he'd had from holding her in his arms. And they had stayed that way for a long time, just quietly clinging to each other in the quiet of the early winter morning.

Eventually he'd heard her mumble, "I'm still not ready to pretend it never happened."

"Me neither. I don't think we should ever pretend it didn't happen. All I can do is try to be here for you every day from here on out. I really am so sorry. I will always be sorry."

"Please stop apologizing," she'd mumbled, still not looking in his eyes. "I hear you. I get it. But please stop. We can't move forward when you keep looking back."

"Ok," he'd said as he took a slow, deep breath. "Then we move forward."

She'd sighed as well, and pulled back from his embrace, leaving his arms feeling suddenly empty. But she still hadn't released his hand that had been over her cheek. Holding it gently, fingers intertwined she'd said softly, "Best friends then?"

"Best friends," he'd said in a suddenly gravely voice as he'd summoned every ounce of his Gryffindor courage to softly rub his thumb over the back of her hand.

He'd felt it that morning – the hope that they could actually make it. And he'd been so excited about the possibility of not only her wanting to be friends again but maybe even eventually feeling the same for him as he did for her.

But looking back now, he realized he'd been so thrilled by the fact she was speaking to him again that he'd more or less missed the crux of the conversation. As usual, his bloody brilliant witch had been right – the old Ron was gone. And he was probably never coming back. And while he still swore and had bad table manners, there were large parts of him that were different and probably always would be. Some things he sure as hell hoped were different. He'd been a right git there for a while and grimaced just thinking of some the things he'd said and done. But, he just couldn't picture being able to be the same person he'd been only twelve months before.

He thought back to when everything had really changed for him. Harry would probably say Malfoy Manor. But, he knew by then the old Ron was actually long gone. By then he was wasn't living as a self-absorbed teenager anymore. Hermione had said it was when he started wearing the locket. But, while his behavior had certainly changed then, he knew it hadn't really changed his core at that point.

He sighed again, rubbing his burning eyes. No – he knew the exact moment on the exact night when he had forever changed from selfish git to someone who understood the consequences of their behaviors. After that point it was no longer about trying to get what he wanted – a parent's attention, a friend, a broom, the girl...no, at that moment it became only about taking care of those he loved. That was all that mattered.

With sleep not coming, Ron yawned and rolled over again, reaching for the small stone that was on his night stand, right next to the deluminator. Rubbing the well-worn pebble between his left thumb and forefinger that still bore the splinching scar from that night, he thought of how far he had come. And how far he still had to go. He'd made his way back to them. He'd helped them see the mission through. And he'd kept them both safe. Well – he'd kept them both alive. Well, ok – he'd kept Hermione alive, but they were both alive now. Even if he had been so awfully close to losing both of them.

He sighed again, lifting his right hand up to rub his closed eyelids. He still didn't know what he was doing. But he knew what he was trying to achieve. He still wanted to become someone worthy of such amazing friends. Someone worthy of such a loving family. Someone worthy of Hermione. Was that even possible? And if it was, how in the hell could he do it? How could he become that person if he couldn't even get his own mother to get out of bed?

He was in a house surrounded by the people he loved, and each and every one of them was hurting, and he couldn't figure out what to do about it. He couldn't fix this. He couldn't dive in and scoop them up off the floor and spirit them away to safety. He couldn't volunteer to take the pain for them. He couldn't jump in front of a curse to protect them from pain. He couldn't undo the trauma that Ginny had endured at Hogwarts last year. He couldn't convince Harry that every bad thing that had happened in the history of the wizarding world wasn't his fault. He couldn't bring back his mother's son and his brother's twin. And he couldn't keep Hermione from looking more haunted every day. The Burrow felt empty, broken and lifeless. But he couldn't just jump on the knight piece and sacrifice himself to solve everything. Hell, he couldn't even figure out how to talk to Hermione.

Since they'd run into each other in the kitchen that night, he and Hermione had not had a minute alone together. But he had noticed that she was looking worse each day instead of better, which really concerned him. He was once again feeling utterly useless – just as he had before Christmas at Shell Cottage after abandoning his friends. But he had found his way back to them then. It didn't undo the mistake, but he had gotten back to the right path. Now he needed a plan to do the same again. He was a chess player. He needed to think five and ten moves ahead. But he had not one single idea.

He stretched his arm over to place the worn stone back on the nightstand deciding he really needed to try and sleep, so he lay back and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax with some deep breaths. But just as he was beginning to nod off, a gut-wrenching scream pierced the quiet house. He instantly knew it was Hermione, as it was the exact scream that still haunted his nightmares. Before he was even conscious of his actions he had seized his wand from under his pillow, flown down the stairs to Ginny's room and thrown open the door. There with his wand drawn he found Ginny standing wide eyed by Hermione's bed trying to wake her.

Hermione was screaming and thrashing about, grabbing her arm and clutching at her neck as she cowered into a protective fetal position. He felt the bile rise in his own throat at the automatic reaction to the nightmare he knew she was living. Instinctively he moved a hysterical Ginny out of the way, sat on the side of Hermione's bed and leaned over her, pinning down her torso with his own as he held her face still in his hands. He spoke firmly but calmly into her ear.

"Wake up, Hermione. You are safe. It is just a nightmare. I am here, and you are totally safe. You need to wake up now. It's only a memory, and when you wake up it will be ok. I promise. All three of us got out, and we are all safe. You got out. You are safe here. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

She continued thrashing and whimpering, and he felt the calmness he was projecting begin to falter, but he continued nonetheless.

"Wake up, Hermione. You are safe at The Burrow. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. I promise. She's dead, Hermione. She's gone and can't hurt you anymore. You're safe, so please wake up. Wake up, Hermione. You are safe. I promise you are safe."

He was so completely focused on her that he hadn't realized the entire house was also awake, assembled at the door watching this scene unfold with a mixture of expressions. Even George and his mum had gotten up from their beds and were staring at them, both marveling and confused at this site of Ron as the mature, tender caregiver. Finally Hermione's eyes popped open with a gasp, and she instantly burst into tears, trembling and burying her face into Ron's chest. Still oblivious to their audience, he clutched her tightly, rocking her slightly as he stroked her hair and tried to soothe her anyway he could.

"Shh, shhh. It's ok. You're ok. You're safe. You're here at The Burrow. I've got you. I'm right here. I'm never going to let anything happen to you. You're safe. We're safe. It's alright now. Shhh."

She finally began to calm down, taking some choppy breaths to try to stop crying. But as soon as she looked up and saw the entire Weasley clan gawking at her from the door frame she cringed, covering her face with her hands.

"Oh my God, I am so embarrassed. I woke the whole house! I am so, so sorry. I forgot the silencing charm tonight, I am so sorry to have woken everyone."

Then she proceeded to burst into tears again, pressing her face into Ron's shoulder. With Hermione's face still hidden in the crook of his neck, Ron looked to the door.

"Uh, thanks everyone. Sorry for the scare. But, Hermione's ok, and we'll probably work through this better without an audience, yeah?"

His dad took the cue and sent everyone shuffling back to bed. Then he simply patted Ron's shoulder and headed out himself. Harry came in and kissed the top of Hermione's head and gently stroked her hair as well. He made silent eye contact with Ron, but saw clearly that his best mate wanted to handle this alone, so he turned to leave.

Ginny, her face still plastered with a baffled expression looked at both boys and said, "We are going to go put the kettle on for you. Come on, Potter."

Ron simply nodded as the pair walked out. When the door had shut quietly behind the exiting couple, Ron finally pulled back and held her face gently so he could see her eyes.

Wiping away some tears from her cheek, he took a deep breath and asked, "Hermione, are you saying this happens a lot, but that you have been repeatedly suffering through this alone with silencing charms to keep it a secret?"

She simply nodded, her sobs bubbling over at a faster rate.

"Oh, Hermione," he sighed, his voice catching as he teared up as well.

He pulled her back into his chest, instinctively rubbing circles on her back and rocking her gently in an attempt to stop her tears, but also to keep his own from falling. He was heartsick at the realization of what she'd been doing, but was relieved to finally know why she had looked so increasingly haunted since returning to The Burrow.

They sat there together for several minutes as her sobs began to slowly ebb until he finally said in a tentative voice, "Let's head down to the kitchen and have that tea, yeah?"

She nodded, gave him a tight lipped smile, slipped on a dressing gown and let herself be led by Ron down the stairs to the kitchen where Ginny had just poured two mugs of tea. Ginny gave Hermione a hug and began to head back to bed. She turned, waiting for Harry to join her.

Harry gave Hermione a guilty smile, went over to her and said, "I will always be sorry about that night, Hermione..."

Hermione shook her head at him, grasping for yet another way to explain to him it wasn't his fault, but Ron beat her to it.

"Not now, mate. This isn't about that. All of us, including you, know that that night wasn't your fault. And maybe when it's not 2 in the morning I can give you a real good pep talk about not everything being your fault or something to apologize for. But not now, yeah?"

"Yeah, of course, I'm sorry," he muttered in an embarrassed, guilty tone.

Ron and Hermione both chuckled at this apology for apologizing, causing a flustered Harry to laugh too.

"Ok, fine, I guess I'm not sorry at all then. That better?" he teased. Then added, "Goodnight you two. And, I love you Hermione. I'm glad we're safe and that it's only a nightmarish memory now."

"Thanks. I love you, too. Goodnight, Harry."

Harry leaned down and kissed the top of her head again and then joined Ginny as they headed back up the stairs leaving Hermione and Ron quietly sipping tea in the empty kitchen. Neither spoke, and out of the corner of his eye, Ron could see her staring at her mug, steam swirling up from the tea. She looked meek, and it was throwing him for a loop. The Hermione he had always known and loved had never been meek. She was brilliant, in charge, fierce, strong and loyal – not to mention beautiful, passionate and sexy as hell. But that was getting off track. When he thought about her intentionally hiding the problem from him and then cowering in the kitchen as she was now, he wasn't sure if he was more disappointed, hurt or angry. Did she not trust him? Or maybe she just didn't think he had anything to offer? Or maybe she just didn't see him in the same way he saw her? But, no matter where they stood as a couple, they were still best friends. And he couldn't stand the idea of her suffering alone. Finally he broke the silence, reaching for her hand and speaking tenderly, but with a touch of honest pain in his voice.

"Hermione, until the day I die I will be haunted by the fact that I couldn't protect you from her that night. But to know that you have been facing her on your own every night and didn't come to me or anyone else just crushes me. I can't help you if I don't know there is a problem. And even if you don't want to tell me, that's ok, but please promise me you'll talk to someone else instead. We have all been through too much. None of us needs to suffer alone now. It is just too much for any one of us to bare by ourselves."

Hermione's tears began to stream from her red rimmed eyes as she searched for a response while clutching tightly to his hand. He let her be, patiently waiting for her to pull her thoughts together.

Eventually she leaned into his chest, took a shaky breath and said, "It's just that your family is going through so much right now. It seems so ridiculous that I can't handle the memory of something that didn't kill me. I got out. You saved me. I know she's dead. I should be relieved – happy even! So many people we love – or loved – don't get to say that. But then every night when I go to sleep I am trapped back in that place again, or in another near death experience from the last year. And I don't want to drag you – or anyone really – into this absurd problem that I should be able to fix on my own. But now I have dragged your whole entire family into it, and I just feel so stupid!"

He sighed as he shook his head. "Oh Hermione," he said as he leaned to kiss her temple. "You are anything but stupid. But thinking you need to do this alone is pretty daft. If we could figure out the problems last year dealt us, surely we can figure this out too. But just like last year, we definitely do better when we tackle problems together. Don't you think?"

She nodded into his chest, but said nothing.

"And I am sure being exhausted doesn't make you think any clearer about how to fix it, huh?" he asked, gently stroking his thumb up and down the back of her neck.

She nodded into his chest again, but this time mumbled, "And please don't suggest dreamless sleep potion. I am too scared of something happening and me not being able to wake up and handle it. There is no way I am taking it anytime soon, if ever."

"No, no. I get it. I'm the same way. I'm still not able to let down all my guards yet. But Hermione, do you know how hard it was to wake you from your dream tonight? Ginny had been trying before I even got there, and you wouldn't come out of it. We need to find a solution that's healthy and safe for you, and silencing charms isn't either of those."

This nugget of information made Hermione cry more, which made Ron chastise himself for making it worse.

They sat there in silence for a while until Ron broke the silence again, "What if you just sleep in my room? It seemed to help stop the nightmares at Shell Cottage when I was on the floor next to your bed."

"We can't, Ron. Your mum would never be ok with that. She didn't even let Bill and Fleur share a room when they were engaged. And she is so fragile right now that I could never ask that of her when she has been so incredible to me."

"Ok. Yeah, you're right about mum not being ok with that. Well – for tonight at least, we will both stay on the couch down here. No one is going to be upset about that in the morning. And then tomorrow we will figure the rest out."

Despite some initial arguments, she eventually agreed, and they moved over to the sofa after cleaning up their tea. They snuggled up on the sofa, but Ron soon noticed she wasn't actually closing her eyes to sleep. He started gently rubbing her back as he spoke.

"Hermione, please try to sleep. I know it is scary, but I promise I will be here. And when we were back at Shell Cottage I was able to help stop the nightmares before they got too bad – I am sure I can do that tonight. Trust me, ok? I promise I will make it ok for tonight. Can you trust me to do that for the next four or five hours at least?"

"I do trust you, Ron, but I am still scared."

"I know, but it will be ok. I promise. I will be right here with my arms around you the whole time. I'll know when the dreams start and can help before they get bad. If I am wrong you can hex me tomorrow."

She chuckled at that and gave him a defeated nod before finally closing her eyes. He kept gently rubbing her back as he felt her drift off to sleep against his chest. He was so conflicted as he lay there with her in his arms. Once again he had that strange sensation of the best and worst moments happening together. He was so amazed that Hermione Granger was asleep in his arms. How he was lucky enough for her to have chosen him was still beyond him. She was gorgeous and brilliant and brave and yet here she was, asleep in his arms. But at the same time, she was so damn stubborn. And he was hurt that she hadn't trusted him enough to tell him about the nightmares. Was it trust? Or did she just not bother because she didn't think he was capable of being helpful? Once again he was back to the problem of people he loved hurting and not knowing how to help. He had to figure out how to ensure that she could sleep near him to feel safe until they could figure out how to keep the nightmares from coming at all. He had to figure something out.

There were so many hurting people in his house. And, it wasn't just about convincing his mum to let Hermione sleep in his room. It wasn't a chess game between Hermione and his mum. There were a lot of pieces in motion and he had to figure out how to help Hermione, his mum and George at the very least. And in a perfect world he needed to help Harry and Ginny as well, not to mention his dad and the rest of his brothers.

His mum needed time to grieve, but she also needed to get back to being herself again. George did too – but it was different. He'd never been himself without Fred, so he needed to learn a whole new way to be himself on top of grieving Fred. Not to mention the shop. Shite. The shop. They'd need to figure something out to do about the shop too. And then there was Hermione. She needed to sleep. And needed to get back to her strong, smart self. And then they needed to go find her parents and bring them back.

Hmm, he pondered as he held her sleeping body to his own. Hermione had purpose but needed sleep. His mum and George did nothing but sleep and hide in their beds, but needed purpose again. There had to be a way to work all of that together. And in the meantime he needed to figure out how to keep his family working without the glue that was his mum.

Sleep began to overtake him as he circled around these problems in his mind, but then suddenly he felt Hermione start to tremble in her sleep. He was awake instantly. She started nervously mumbling his name in fear just as she had done back at Malfoy Manor.

He held her firmly and spoke right into her ear, "You're safe. I'm here. It's just a nightmare. You are ok. You are safe. I won't let anything hurt you. You are safe here in my arms."

She stilled as he spoke, and she eventually turned on his chest and settled again into a peaceful sleep. He relaxed knowing that at the very least he was able to help her avoid the nightmare. And with that he drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later he heard someone stirring upstairs in the loo as he saw the first light of the morning creep through the window. He smiled as he saw Hermione sleeping peacefully against his chest. He was good for something after all. At the very least he could give her a good night's sleep, which he knew she'd desperately needed.

He kissed Hermione on the forehead and gently shifted her onto the sofa cushion as he rolled carefully off of the couch. He pulled the blanket up over her and headed into the kitchen. If he could chase away nightmares, maybe he could help out the people he loved in other ways too. He mulled this over as he pulled together breakfast for his family.

As his dad entered the kitchen about half an hour later, Ron was laying out the breakfast table. It had eggs and bacon and slightly burned toast. It wasn't up to his mum's standards, or as good as Hermione had done, but it wasn't bad for a first shot. Arthur looked at him with grateful surprise.

"Goodness, Ron, this is unexpected."

Ron shrugged as he poured tea for his dad.

"I know it's not what Mum does, but it will do to hold us over for now I suppose."

Arthur gave a sad smile.

"Your mum needs time. On top of the pain of losing her son, she is re-living the pain of losing her brothers in the first war. She will be ok eventually, but for now I really appreciate you stepping in to help out." He took a sip of his tea and then asked, "How is Hermione this morning?"

Ron smiled, "Still sleeping. She's on the couch in the living room." He paused and then added, "Dad, I need your help figuring out how to help her. She's been having these nightmares every night but has been using silencing charms to keep it to herself so she wouldn't bother the rest of the family. I know we didn't go into a lot of detail about everything that happened when we were gone, but some of it was pretty awful. At Malfoy Manor, well, Bellatrix..." he said, his voice breaking. "Bellatrix tor-she tortured her."

Ron took a deep breath before continuing, "I couldn't get to her – I – well Harry and I both – were in a dungeon at the time. But I could hear her screaming. I couldn't protect her then, and that still haunts me. But there is no way I can sit by and watch that crazy woman continue to torture her night after night when I can do something about it. I just can't do it, Dad. When the nightmares come, I am the only one who can seem to wake her. You saw that last night with Ginny. It was the same at Shell Cottage after the Manor – Luna couldn't wake her either."

Ron looked up to see a surprised and somewhat confused expression on his father's face.

"Yeah – I guess we need to fill in a lot more details for you. And I promise I will. But for now the important bit is that I ended up sleeping on the floor next to her bed while she healed, and it seemed to work. I know Mum has always been adamant about couples not sleeping in the same room under her roof until they are married, and I want to respect that. But I have to do something. I don't want to be disrespectful to Mum – especially now. Ideally Hermione could sleep up in my room. Harry would be in there too – you'd have to know nothing would happen. Or maybe Hermione and I could go stay at the flat above the shop since George seems to be here for a while. Maybe we could take him there too. Or – maybe we could both stay at her parents' house? I don't know – what do you think? We can't just keep doing this every night. I can't just watch her suffer like that, Dad. I have to be sure she's ok."

Arthur looked at his son with a mixture of sadness and pride. Ron was clearly not the boy who had set off on Dumbledore's mission the year before. And while he was sorry that Ron didn't have the childhood he deserved, he couldn't help but be impressed at the young man standing before him.

"I am so sorry all of this is on your shoulders, Ron. I had suspected about Hermione, and I am so sad to know I was right. And don't worry – I will speak with your mum and we will figure something out before tonight. You clearly care deeply about her, as we all do."

"I love her, Dad."

"I know, son. I know."

Ron simply nodded and turned back to the toast as Percy came into the kitchen and tucked into the breakfast on the table.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ron had taken breakfast trays up to his mum and to George later that morning, and was coming back into the kitchen when he found Hermione alone washing dishes at the sink.

"Harry and Gin stick you with the dishes?"

Hermione shook her head. "No – I sent them off on a walk and promised I had this."

She smiled as she looked up at him, and he noticed her face looked well-rested and the dark circles under her eyes seemed to have faded somewhat, causing his heart to inwardly soar.

She put the last tea cup away and added softly, "Thank you for last night. I was so embarrassed about everything. But, then I felt so relieved to tell you what was going on. I guess I keep forgetting to think of things as a 'we,' and I am sorry about that."

Ron smiled and hugged her. "I'm glad, Hermione. I just want you to be ok – I want us to be ok."

"Me too," she smiled.

"Hermione, I know we haven't had a chance to really talk or, hell, even kiss without someone walking in on us," he said with magenta ears. "And, I'm sorry about that. But, I just need to be sure that you know – I love you, Hermione. I love you so much."

"Oh Ron," she said as she put her hands around his neck. "I love you, too. I can't even remember when I didn't love you."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, and then leaned to capture her lips in his. She moaned into his kiss, and their tongues fought for dominance as they each tried to make the other understand just how much they loved them.

After a bit, Ron pulled back and said, "You've really loved me all of this time? Really?"

"Yes, really," she said with a know-it-all grin. "But while we may get high marks for love, I guess we get pretty low marks for telling each other or figuring out what the other was thinking, huh?"

"Yeah. I'd say," Ron laughed as he still tried to process and believe what she had just told him. "But, those seem to be problems we can definitely handle."

"I would think so," she said. "Still doesn't solve the sleeping problem though, does it?"

"Well, about that, I had a few ideas," he said, his arms moving from around her waist to take both of her hands in his. "I have to confess – I talked to Dad this morning and talked to him about us sleeping in my room with Harry, but that if it wasn't ok with him and Mum we could find another place where we could sleep – maybe the flat over the shop or your parents' house? But, you have to be able to sleep, Hermione. It's just not healthy to face that night after night."

"Oh my goodness, what did he say?" she cringed letting her hands drop from his.

"He understood. He loves you like a daughter, Hermione. He doesn't want to see you struggle either. He said he would talk to Mum and they would figure something out before tonight."

"Wow. Ok. Well, I am still embarrassed, but I am also grateful. I don't think I had realized how exhausted I was until I woke up this morning and remembered what it was like to feel well rested."

"Well, I am going to trust we will have a solution before tonight and that you will feel just as rested tomorrow."

"I love you."

"I love you, Hermione." He leaned down and kissed her.

While it started as a chaste peck on the lips, but when he felt her tongue seek entrance to his mouth the kiss heated up rapidly. She stretched on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss as she snaked her arm back up around his neck. Her tongue moved from his mouth to his ear and then down his neck. And when he moaned in response, she smiled and ran her hand through his hair as she moved to the other ear. His hands moved down from her waist and cupped her bum, squeezing tightly. This set her on fire, and she quickly lifted her leg around his waist, and he lifted her onto the counter and leaned in between her thighs as she wrapped her legs around him tightly. They were both lost in each the feel of each other until they heard Ginny and Harry opening the back door coming in from the orchard. Hermione quickly pulled back and hopped off the counter as she smoothed down her jumper. Ron smiled and did the same as he went back to putting away the breakfast dishes. As she crossed back to the table her fingers again ghosted across his back, and he wondered how he got so lucky.

With the four of them around the table, Hermione asked the group, "Would you guys be willing to come help me check out my parents' house today? I want to make sure everything there is ok while I wait to hear form Kingsley about finding them. I protected it with tons of enchantments when I left, but I don't know if they held."

"Of course, Hermione," Harry said, 'We're happy to do anything we can. Could be fun to make a day of it and get out of here for a bit. I think we could all probably use a change of scenery."

Ron and Ginny looked at each other in a wordless sibling conversation, and then Ginny said, "I think you three should go today and check it out. I will stay and take care of Mum and George. Then maybe I can join you once Dad or Percy get off work."

"Oh, sorry, I hadn't even thought of that," Hermione said. "Maybe we should just wait until this evening?"

"No," said Ginny. "I think you guys should go ahead and go today. I wanted to try to spend some time with Mum today anyway."

Harry asked, "Maybe I should stay too?"

"Don't be silly," Ginny laughed, "I know I was miffed I couldn't go with you last year, but I can certainly handle part of a day here by myself. I will be fine – you three go on."

Harry nodded.

Ron hugged her and said, "Thank you Gin. I really appreciate it. And while we are out we'll stop at the market on the way home to get more food, as there aren't enough eggs for breakfast tomorrow."

"Sounds good. You three be careful. You are not exactly anonymous, and there are still plenty of Death Eaters out there."

"We promise, Gin," Harry said as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "And we will see you this evening. "

Less than an hour later, the three of them apparated to an alley near Hermione's parents' house. Neither of the boys had been to her childhood home before so she led them through the neighborhood to her street. Ron was a little overwhelmed at both being in a muggle neighborhood and also by the size of the houses in the neighborhood. He always knew Hermione's family was wealthy, but he had never understood quite how wealthy until he saw these homes. They walked as he took in all of the surroundings, simply following her along the perfectly manicures walkway. Then he noticed Hermione had stopped in front of a low stone wall covered in a rambling rose that had a white gate and matching post box. She looked noticeably paler as she looked up at the beautiful brick home.

"You ok, Hermione? Is this it" Ron asked.

"Yes. This is where I grew up. It looks ok from here, but it is charmed to look normal from the street. I'll need to remove the enchantments, but I just need a minute." She took a deep breath and steadied her nerves. Once she was sure no one would see her, she raised her wand and went to work. A few minutes later, she smiled and seemed satisfied.

"Well, that part is done and it still looks ok from the street, so I guess that's step one."

"Anything we need to look out for?" asked Harry.

"Well, the protections I set up made it look ok from the street. And, it had muggle repelling charms for everyone except Mr. Fitzugh who was to cut the grass and tend the garden. The house shouldn't have been able to be opened by magic, but I guess we will find out in a minute how successful I was."

"I'm sure you were brilliant as always. But, in honor of Mad-Eye, let's just go overboard with a little constant vigilance and double check if there is anyone inside before we waltz in, ok?" Ron asked.

Met with agreeing nods, Ron cast, " _Hominem Revelo."_

When no one was revealed, she took a deep breath, walked up to the front step with her boys right behind her and went to unlock the door. Hermione took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and the three of them walked in with their wands drawn.

They each froze as they saw the scene in front of them. The home had been completely ransacked. Every single piece of furniture was turned over or shredded. Papers were thrown everywhere, and books were toppled off of the shelves. But most horrific was the message painted in what seemed to be dried blood on the living room wall that said " _Welcome Home Mudblood - Hope You Like Surprises_."

Harry turned to Ron and gestured that they needed to go.

"We need to leave _now_ ," said Ron as Harry nodded in agreement. But Hermione just stood there frozen, staring with her mouth ajar but not saying a word. "Now, Hermione. We have to go right now," Ron barked as he moved his arms around her waist and half pulled and half carried Hermione back out the door, with Harry shutting it behind them and locking it magically.

"I've got her. You get us out of here," said Ron, reaching for Harry's hand with one arm while supporting a still stunned Hermione around the waist with his other arm.

Harry nodded and disapparated the three of them back to edge of the wards at The Burrow. They landed with a wobble, and both boys turned their attention to the shocked Hermione.

"Hermione?" Ron asked. "Are you ok?"

She didn't speak at all and seemed to be in a sort of a trance. Harry squatted slightly so he could look directly in her eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry asked. Seeing no response, Harry winced and sighed in defeat. "It's ok, Hermione. Come on," he added.

With that, Harry took her elbow in his hand began to gently lead her back into The Burrow's kitchen without saying another word. Ron was baffled by the scene in front of him, but said nothing and simply followed. Harry managed to sit her down at the kitchen table and gestured for Ginny to get her a cup of tea. It had now been more than five minutes, and Hermione still hadn't said a word or even made eye contact with either of them. She wasn't crying, but she was silent and breathing quite quickly. Ron wasn't totally convinced she knew they were there at all. Ginny was sitting next to her stroking her hair, so Ron pulled Harry off to the side.

"Have you ever seen her like this, mate?" Ron asked. "I'm more or less used to her being angry or freaking out with tears by now, but I can't ever remember her ever just going mute. Do you think it was some sort of curse that was triggered when we entered the house?"

Harry took a deep breath and looked at Ron tentatively.

"Um, I hate to say it, but actually this is what she did after you left last winter. She just totally shut down. She didn't talk at all. For days. Not really sure what it was – or what it is. Back then she would sleep in your bed, and sort of go through all the motions of the day without saying a word. She had that same dazed look in her eyes, but wouldn't really focus on me. She somehow still functioned. I mean, she would take watch and make tea or supper, but no communication at all. After about a week she started crying some, and then eventually she started talking again in small bits until she finally eased back to her normal self. But, mate, I have to warn you - it took a long time."

"Shite," Ron blanched. "Fuck. Harry, I am so sorry," he said as he planted his face in his hands and gripped at his fringe.

"Ron – we've been through this. We forgave you. It was the damn horcrux. I realize now I don't blame you for that any more than I blamed Ginny for petrifying Hermione. But right now we need to focus on the current problem, not convincing you to forgive yourself."

"Right. Sorry. Yeah, fuck," said Ron shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Let's start with the house. What the hell do you think happened there?"

"Well, clearly the Death Eaters had been there. The key questions are how recently were they there and what surprises did they leave."

"Yeah. You're right. I say we let Kinglsey know and head back with some reinforcements – as well as bringing Bill along. That way if they did leave some curses for us to stumble onto we can have him take care of those. Then we can get into the house safely and start getting it put back together."

"Good plan. OK. I'll owl Kingsley and Bill now, and then we can figure out how to help Hermione."

Ron wrote the notes for the owls as Harry headed back to the kitchen table. He sat down gently next to Hermione and held her hand while Ginny excused herself, leaving the two alone.

Harry bent his head low in an attempt to make eye contact with her, squeezed her hand and said, "Hermione, it's going to be ok. I promise. I know the house plan didn't go as hoped. But, you have to know they are ok. This is precisely why you sent them to Australia. All this does is prove that you made the absolute right decision. We can fix the house. We _will_ fix the house. Ron is contacting Kingsley and Bill now so we can get their help and fix everything safely."

She just continued to look past him with an occasional blink.

"Please don't shut down on me, Hermione. I've seen you do this once before. When something you absolutely thought was impossible actually happened, you shut down. But this was not impossible. This was something you anticipated, planned for and it is the exact reason you sent your parents away. Please don't shut down. I need you. Ron needs you. And your parents need you, even if they don't realize it yet. We can't get them back if you are like this, OK?"

She didn't respond as he hugged her tightly. Once he let her go she simply got up and walked out of the kitchen with no sign of recognition, leaving Harry alone at the table.

A few minutes later Ron came into the kitchen to try to talk to her, but Harry explained she had simply walked out. Ron looked in the living room and Ginny's room, but she wasn't there. Then when the loo was empty too he started to worry. But just as the panic was starting to creep up and seize him, he remembered what Harry had said had happened after he'd left them. With that in mind, he bounded up the steps two at a time to his own room, where he found her curled up on his bed under his Chudley Cannons blanket. Feeling relief wash over him like a wave, he quietly walked over to the bed. Unable to tell if she was asleep or not, he gently stroked her hair and kissed her temple, but she didn't stir. Her breathing was slow and even, so he hoped she had drifted off to sleep and tiptoed out of the room to let her rest.

Shutting the door gently behind him, he sat down on the top stair alone. He leaned his head against the wonky wall and heard himself say "fuuuuck." Now he had three people he loved in more or less catatonic states in the house. And, as much as he wanted to have a slight breakdown himself at that moment, he knew he needed to pull it together. He didn't have time to feel guilty about last fall right now. He had to help his family heal. First things first, he thought. He'd reached out to Kingsley and Bill, and now he needed to get back to the market to make sure there was something to eat for dinner and breakfast. Then he needed to figure out how to ensure he and Hermione could sleep in the same room tonight. Then once he heard back from Kingsley and Bill he could organize the plan to go back to her parent's house. There was no way to know if Hermione would be better when he got back from the market or even the following day. But, for now at least he had some tasks to stay busy with instead of just worrying. He closed his eyes for a moment and headed back to the kitchen.

"She's asleep up in my bed," he said to Harry and Ginny. "I thought I would pop over to the market in town while she's resting and pick up some things to make sandwiches for dinner and to get eggs for breakfast."

"We'll stay here and keep an eye out for everyone," Ginny said.

Ron simply nodded and headed out the door. The walk to town and back was good for him, and it allowed him to clear his mind a bit. He couldn't let himself think about how Hermione had been when he'd left. That time was already his own personal hell, and he supposed this additional insight into how she'd suffered just added to the guilt and shame. But, like then, he tried hard to stay focused on what he could do that was positive. How he could help. And he was starting with feeding the family. It had more or less been fend for yourself since they'd arrived home from the Battle of Hogwarts, so he decided he was going to officially assume that responsibility. It wouldn't be gourmet, but it would keep them all going for now and provide a little stability in the routine.

Once back from the market, Ron made bacon sandwiches for everyone for supper. It was far from what was usually served around the Weasley table, but everyone was appreciative. Hermione did not come down to eat. He'd checked on her after taking food to his mum and brother. He was rather certain she was not asleep, but he didn't push the issue and let her continue to rest.

While he'd been upstairs, Bill, Fleur, Percy and Kingsley had all arrived. Fleur and Ginny brought out tea and the tin of biscuits he and Hermione had made a few nights prior. While the group chatted Ron and Harry caught Bill and Kingsley up on how Hermione had protected her parents' home after sending them to Australia and explained what they had found that morning.

Kingsley grimaced at the description, but didn't seem shocked.

"You seem to forget that quite a few Death Eaters escaped after that final battle," he said. "And you three are still very much targets for that lot. But, if the blood was as dried as you suggest, the ransacking could have been quite some time ago. So, it could very well have happened some time last fall and just gone unnoticed until now."

"Well, either way, we still need to find a way to safely get in so we can clean it up before we try to bring the Grangers back home," Ron said. "They are going to be shocked enough at their memory situation, the last thing they'll need is a message in blood on their wall."

"Right," said Bill. "I'm confident we can check the house for curses in the morning and then lay additional wards which will keep it safe for you to go back and forth as you begin the clean up."

"Yes," added Kingsley. "And perhaps we can lay some tracer charms as well just in case this is more recent, and then we can keep an eye on things, so to speak."

"Brilliant idea," Bill added.

"Yes, well, speaking of brilliant," Kingsley said as he turned to Ron and Harry. "I know you are both eligible to return to Hogwarts this fall to complete your seventh year, but I wanted to let you know of a second option open to you two, Hermione and Neville Longbottom. While we usually require NEWTs in multiple subjects to become aurors, the department has been decimated, and we need qualified individuals immediately. The Ministry is putting together a condensed training program starting in September that would have you all out in the field by spring. With the real life experience you all have, you are more than qualified to be in the program. And, while I hope you will consider it, the offer will stand if you choose to return to school or do something else and then elect to join the aurors at a later time."

Harry immediately grinned ear to ear, but Ron was visibly stunned.

"Without finishing school or getting any NEWTS at all we could still be aurors?" Ron clarified, not quite believing what he'd heard.

"Yes. You four anyway. The experiences you've had over the past year more than demonstrate your ability to do the job, which is really what we required NEWTS for in the first place. You don't have to decide anything right now. Think it over. Talk it through with your loved ones. But please do consider it. I'll talk to Neville myself, but would you be so kind as to mention it to Hermione when she is feeling better?"

"We will. Thank you, Kingsley," said Harry as Ron nodded along.

Kingsley smiled, and after making plans to meet early the next morning at the Granger's home, headed off, as did Bill, Fleur and Percy. Harry and Ginny went to finish cleaning up the kitchen, but Arthur stayed in the living room with Ron.

"Ron, while I haven't had the opportunity to get much input from your mum yet, I feel it would be best if Hermione stays in your room for the time being. Obviously she is in a fragile state right now, and the last thing we need is anything to make it worse. To help your mum be ok with this arrangement, we will call it temporary for now, but know it will last for as long as it is needed. We will move the camp bed that has been in Ginny's room up to your room so everyone has their own bed. I know you'll move them together so you can help her with any nightmares, and that is fine, but everyone needs their own bed, is that understood?"

Ron just nodded.

"And Harry will stay up there too. And I will handle Ginerva's reaction to the whole thing."

Ron chuckled, looked his dad in the eye and said, "Thank you so much, Dad. Really – I can't tell you how important this is to me."

"I know it is, son. And you are welcome. You take care of her now. She's clearly taken care of you and Harry all year, and now you get to return the favor."

Ron nodded as his Dad got up and headed into the kitchen. He allowed himself to smile as he took a large breath and exhaled slowly. Solution to problem one – check.

He decided to make up a tray of tea and toast and head up to his room with it to check on Hermione. He found her in the same position on his bed as she had been hours prior, so he went and sat on the corner of the mattress and started softly rubbing her back.

"I have good news and sustenance, Hermione. Do you think you can sit up and have some tea while I fill you in?"

She didn't move, but he could tell she was awake. So he tried a different tactic. He tucked some curls behind her ear, kissed her cheek and tried again.

"You don't have to eat anything, but I really do need to tell you some good things, so please sit up so we can chat, yeah?"

At this she turned her head slightly towards him, and he felt his own face brighten.

"Hey there, love. Do you need help sitting up? Can I help you?"

She nodded, and he helped her sit up so she could lean against the headboard. She didn't speak, but she did look at him and finally took the tea and sipped at it, which he took as an encouraging sign.

"Ok, I have several good things to tell you about. First, Dad said you can stay up here and sleep in my room as long as Harry stays up here too and we each have our own beds, so I will move your camp bed up shortly next to this one. You'll stay right where you are, but I can be right next to you all night, and that way we should fend of the nightmares together."

She smiled at this and looked visibly relieved.

"Second, Bill and Kingsley are going to meet us at your parents' home in the morning and help us break any curses that might be on the home. And then they'll help us lay new protections on them as well. So – we should be safely back into the house in the morning."

Her eyes welled up with tears at this, but he thought they looked like happy tears so he kept going.

"And finally, here is the real surprise. Kingsley said they are definitely opening up Hogwarts this fall. But he also surprised us and said that we – well, you, me, Harry and Nev - have multiple options. First, we can go back to Hogwarts to complete our seventh year and sit for NEWTs. But, he also said that since the auror force has been so decimated, that he was offering the four of us the opportunity to enroll in an accelerated auror course that would start in September. We would be fully in the field by spring, and they would waive the usually required NEWTs. And finally, he said that offer would stand even if we wanted to go to school first or even do something else first but that the auror option would be there." He finally looked up at her and tried to read her face. He couldn't quite make out the expression, but she seemed to be contemplating all that he said.

"It is a lot to take in, I know. Or at least it is for me. But we don't have to decide anything right away. We have plenty of time for all of that. And, it is at least nice to know that there are multiple options to consider."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"Ok. Do you think you could eat a little of the toast if I left it here for a few minutes while I go see to moving the bed?"

She nodded and smiled.

"I love you, you know? We are going to get through all of this. I promise."

With that he hugged her tenderly, and was relieved to feel her hug him back. With that he left to go move the camp bed up to his room and let Harry know about the new sleeping arrangements. He knew everyone would be ok with it, but he still wasn't going to volunteer to explain it to Ginny.

Several hours later the bed had been moved, the house had gone to bed for the night, and once again Ron was wide awake listening to Harry snore across the room. But this time he was in the camp bed since Hermione was in his own. He thought she might be asleep, but he wasn't completely sure. He was holding her hand, which she had held up to her face as she curled up on her side facing him. He was so worried about her. There was no beating around it. He was really thrown by this new, mute Hermione. Even after the torture at Malfoy Manor she had not been this withdrawn. Sure, it had taken a few days for her to get back to being herself, but she'd never just shut down. After Malfoy Manor it was bad, but even then he knew she was fighting to come back, but this – this felt resigned somehow. He wasn't used to her not fighting for something. He couldn't get his mind wrapped around it. And he wasn't sure he knew how to help her.

But then suddenly in the silent room there was a whisper so quiet he wasn't sure if he had just imagined it, "I'm sorry."

"Hermione?"

"I'm sorry I freaked out and scared everyone," she whispered in a slightly stronger voice.

"Oh Hermione, Merlin knows each of us has handled more than enough to qualify for some freak out time – we just have to be sure we don't all do it at the same time."

She smiled slightly at his comment, but didn't say anything else. Still wanting to hear her voice, Ron tried to keep the conversation going.

"Harry told me about how you had done this before when something you couldn't imagine happening happened. And I am so sorry for that. But, I agree with Harry in saying you had absolutely seen this one coming. This was why you moved them away, right? The way I see it is just more proof that you are bloody brilliant. Well, that and maybe you're better at divination than you were ever willing to let on."

She chuckled slightly at this and eventually said, "It's just – well – I had only just convinced myself my parents were ok. You know – to trust that my plan worked and that they were ok. But then I saw that scene today and suddenly realized my plan for the house didn't work. So what if they aren't ok too? What if the rest of the plan went just as badly? What if I screwed that up and missed something in that too? What if I never find them? Or if I do find them but can't reverse the spell? Or if I do reverse the spell and they never forgive me? And all of a sudden it was just too much to take in and I sort of just had to run away and hide, I think. I don't really know because I honestly don't remember. One minute I was in my childhood home and you were telling me we needed to leave and it all went black. And the next thing I can remember I was curled up here in your bed. I don't even know how we came back or how I got up here."

"Well, Harry apparated the three of us back home. After some tea in the kitchen Harry was talking to you, and he said you just stood up and walked out. I looked everywhere for you and eventually found you up here fast asleep."

"Oh. Well, I guess it's where I feel the safest," she blushed. "Maybe I just had to hide in my safe place? Don't know. Might not go down as my finest moment."

"Hmm. You have a long way to go to even try to rival some of my spectacular history of less than fine moments. Actually, I just see today as proof of how brilliant you are. You knew this could happen. And any doubt that your parents may have had about how necessary it was to send them away was just sorted. It is clear as day that if you hadn't gone to such extraordinary measures to protect them that they would have been in very serious trouble. But you did it. And they are safe and blissfully unaware of the whole sodding mess. And Kingsley will find them, and we will fix up the house. Then we'll head down under and reverse the curse. And knowing about the house will just make it all the easier to convince them of how necessary your actions really were."

"You make everything sound so simple, Ron. And the really incredible thing is that when I hear you say it that way, I can believe it. It's like there is some giant storm of problems swirling in my head but somehow you can still that storm. I really don't know how you do it. Honestly, it terrifies me a little bit."

"Why would that terrify you?"

"Well, I think it is that I am not used to depending on other people so much. I mean, I know I have depended on you and Harry for many things, but not for something like this. I don't know – I guess I am used to being the one who comes up with a plan. And then you and I argue about the details about it and we fix it up, and then we do it together. But right now it is like I can't do anything on my own. I can't even sleep by myself! It is a bit scary to go from feeling like I can trust myself to handle whatever happens to feeling totally dependent on you. And, I don't want to become a burden to you. What if I don't ever get back to who I was before?"

"Oh, Hermione, you could never be a burden. I don't know how to help you understand just how much I love you. And how grateful I am to be able to do something to help you after you have basically enabled me to make it through school since I landed at Hogwarts and then you go and figure out the crazy mission Dumbledore left for us. I feel like you have been carrying me for years, and I am only starting to show you how much I appreciate it. And let's face it, so far you not being able to sleep through the night has enabled me to have the woman of my dreams sleep in my bed – with my parents blessing no less! So, again – just more proof that you are bloody brilliant."

She blushed at this and smiled.

"Woman of your dreams, really?" she said with a large dose of sarcasm and eye rolling.

But Ron answered in a suddenly husky voice, "You really have no idea do you, Hermione?"

At that, he placed his hand to her face gently and kissed her. He was worried he had crossed a line in that moment, but she sighed into his kiss, and ran her hands through his hair, pulling him closer.

"Actually, I think I just might," she sighed as she broke from their kiss. She reached back out and brushed his fringe from his eyes. "I love you, Ron. And I am so lucky to have you. Thank you – for today – for everything."

"I love you, too. And thank you for trusting me. For letting me help. It means a lot more than I think you know." She smiled. "We should try to sleep. We have to get up early to meet everyone if you think you are up to it."

"Yes. I want to be there. But, I want you to be with me, alright? To stay by my side when we are there in case I start to lose it again?"

"Of course. I think that sounds like a brilliant plan from a brilliant witch. Now let's sleep. I'll be right here all night. So, trust that nightmares won't be a problem."

They curled up together as best they could between the bed and the camp cot and fell asleep ready to face what was ahead. While she did start to stir several times, Ron woke up and rubbed her back and spoke softly into her ear each time, and it seemed to do the trick. And he was thrilled to realize that once again she actually slept through the night. This just might work, he thought after the third time, and then he drifted back to sleep.

He was up early the next morning, and quietly crept downstairs to make breakfast for everyone. He had just started frying bacon when Percy came into the kitchen before his dad had even come down the stairs.

"Good morning, Ronald. Thanks for making breakfast again."

"Morning, Perc. No worries. Have some eggs. You're early today."

"How is Hermione doing?"

"Much better, thanks. She was talking some last night before she fell asleep, so that is definitely a step in the right direction. She wants to go this morning to meet Bill and Kingsley, but I know it will be quite difficult for her."

Percy nodded as he swallowed sip of tea.

"I was thinking I could go into the office late this morning. I could stay here and try to get Mum and George to have some breakfast. That way Ginerva could go with the rest of you to the Grangers' this morning. I know she and Hermione have always been quite close, so maybe it would help."

"Really? That would be fantastic, Percy. I know Hermione would really appreciate having Ginny there. Thank you so much for doing that."

"Of course, Ron. I know it will take a while for all of us to find our footing as a family again. But, I really do want to help where I can. And this is something I can definitely do. I'm glad to be able to contribute something, actually."

"Oh Perc-" Ron started.

But he was soon cut off by his older brother who said, "Oh, good morning, Harry, father."

"Morning everyone. I see that Ronald's Café is back up and running this morning?" joked Arthur.

Harry took some bacon and poured a cup of tea. Ron sighed, gave Percy an encouraging smile and caught Harry and his dad up on the conversation.

"Hermione is doing much better and wants to come this morning. Percy has offered to stay with George and Mum so Ginny can come as well. I am really glad, as I think Hermione will do better with her there."

"That's great. Thanks, Percy," said Harry. "One of us should go let Ginny know so she can have some breakfast before we go."

"I heard it from the stairs," said Ginny sleepily as she entered the kitchen. "And it is great. Thanks, Perc," she said as she gave her brother a kiss on the cheek.

Percy looked both pleased and uncomfortably awkward at the same time, which, Ron mused, was pretty much how Percy had looked most of the time growing up. Maybe things would work out after all. But, his thoughts were interrupted when Hermione came down the stairs.

"Ah, good morning Hermione," Percy said as she came in as well. "Would you like some tea?"

They all looked up at her as she entered the kitchen timidly.

"Good morning. Tea sounds lovely, thank you," she said quietly.

Harry looked so relieved to hear her talk, and gave her a reassuring smile. Ron was again thrilled to hear her voice and couldn't help but beam with pride for her at her rapid progress. Ginny explained how she was coming along, and Hermione looked visibly more relaxed at that news. With that Ron turned to Percy and mouthed "thank you," to his brother, who just blushed and nodded with his trademark awkward smile.

The family ate breakfast and discussed some of the news in the paper, but before too long they had left Percy to fix trays for Molly and George and were all standing back at the front gate of the Granger's home with Bill and Kingsley.

"OK, everyone," said Kingsley. "Bill and I have had a chance to get a lay of things, and we have some initial good news. It looks like whatever surprises the Death Eaters may have left were not in the form of curses or wards on the whole house. So, we will go through the house room by room addressing whatever enchantments or other curses we may find. Once we are assured the house is safe and cleared, then we can take time to assess the mess and damage to the home and any items that we find. Hermione, can you tell us the layout of the house so we can understand what room is where?

Hermione pulled out some parchment from her beaded bag and drew a quick sketch of her childhood home, showing them where each room was and how they connected. Kingsley and Bill made quick work of the first floor, clearing curses found in the kitchen and her father's study. The curses on the second floor took longer, and the ones on Hermione's bedroom took the longest. But within an hour they had the house cleared of dark magic, and Bill helped Hermione re-establish protective wards over the whole home and added the tracer wards just in case someone was still trying to get through.

"I still can't figure out how they were able to get inside, though," Hermione muttered. Bill asked her to talk him through what she had done, and what exceptions she had built into the protections. As she explained it to him, she caught her own mistake.

"The gardener!"

"Yes, I think you are right," Bill replied. "If they noticed that someone was able to penetrate the grounds, then all they had to do was use the Imperius on him, and they had their entry.

"So stupid," she said as she shook her head. "I should have known better!"

"No!" Ron assured her, "There was no way to anticipate that. Think about it, Hermione. This was a year ago. People regularly using unforgivable curses on each other wasn't something we were really thinking about back then, was it?"

"No, I guess not," she admitted. "I just hope I didn't make any other mistakes in sending them to Australia."

"I am sure it will be fine," stated Kingsley. "I have already been in touch with the Australian Ministry of Magic, and they are actively looking to locate them. But, I was going to ask the three of you to come to the ministry with me this morning if you could. We really do need to get an official statement about everything that happened. Not necessarily one to be shared with the public, mind you, but one the aurors can work with to track down additional Death Eaters. Maybe while you are there, you can help us with any additional details about your parents that we could share with the Australian Ministry?"

"Of course," said Hermione. "We'll come with you now if that helps."

"I'll head back and trade out with Percy," Ginny offered. "Harry, you'll come back to The Burrow after you're done?"

"Absolutely."

It was almost lunch time when they finished up at the Ministry. Harry headed back to The Burrow, but Hermione wanted to go back by her parents' home before returning. They were going to go there directly, but then she heard Ron's stomach start to growl.

"Oh my goodness, I guess we need to make a pit stop first," she laughed. "How about we go to a fish and chip shop near the house and then go over after we eat?"

"Sounds perfect."

They apparated to an alley way around the corner from the fish and chip shop. They went in and suddenly Ron realized he didn't have any muggle money. Bloody Hell, he thought. This was more or less their first date, and he was already screwing it up.

"Uh, Hermione, I didn't bring any muggle money. Could we pop back home and I'll get some?"

"Oh, I have some, don't worry."

"Are you sure, I mean I can get it if we just…"

"Ron, I don't think you understand how grateful I am that you are coming back to the house with me. Please let me just get lunch."

"Ok," he said, slightly dejected.

She gave him a questioning look, and he sighed and said, "Its just – I mean I know this is going to sound completely barmy, but this is almost like our first date, and I just feel like a git not being able to even buy you chips."

"Oh," she said, finally understanding what they were really talking about. "I hadn't really even thought of it like that. You are a strange, sweet man, Ronald Weasley. How about this…what if we don't count this as our first date? This is sort of just part of tying up the loose ends of our mission, right? And we would both rather have fish and chips for lunch instead of me sautéing up some mushrooms I gather up from the back garden, right?"

He laughed at that.

"OK, Ms. Granger. It's a deal. But I am taking you on a proper date very soon. I promise."

She leaned up to him and gave him a quick kiss, and they headed in for lunch. They got their food and sat up at a counter enjoying themselves. The conversation was easy but light as they avoided all of the hard topics facing them. Neither mentioned fixing her home, finding her parents, her breakdown the day before, deciding about the auror offer or how to help George and his mum. Instead they carved out time for being teenagers for an hour and made up stories about the other diners in the café, argued about whether chips tasted better with vinegar on them or not and laughed at a pair of dogs outside as they chased each other around a tree. As they finished up, they walked back to her home and grew quieter as they approached the heavy task ahead of them.

"Are you sure you are up for this today?" Ron asked gently. "There's no rush."

"Well, I think I'm up for it. But I thought that yesterday too, I suppose. I really want to go back in and fix some of the easy stuff so it starts to look more like it should. Seems like that could help me feel better somehow. And, well, you know me – I want to start a list of what repairs we need to get done. And then I can figure out if I need to research magical construction methods or hire muggle contractors to come fix things. Or to figure out what we can do with just cleaning and hard work."

"Excellent," he beamed. "That is the most you have sounded like yourself in weeks. Let's go make some lists. You tell me what to write, and I will be your scribe," he added earnestly.

She chuckled, and they headed in together.

They spent several hours working through the house. They had managed to repair a lot of the torn furniture and scattered belongings. She was encouraged that nothing seemed to need major structural repair and would only require hard work and time. They could clean, paint, fix up some of the damaged cupboards and get some new curtains and carpets. But, overall she thought it seemed like something they could tackle.

By the time they had finished in the last room, they realized how late it was and quickly headed back to The Burrow so they could make dinner before Percy and Arthur returned home. Following dinner, Ron was putting trays together to take food up to his mum and brother.

"Can I take this up to your mum, Ron? I haven't seen her much, and would like an excuse to pop in on her."

"Sure. I am sure she would appreciate that. I'll take this up to George, and I'll find you later."

Hermione knocked quietly on the bedroom door.

"Mrs. Weasley? It's Hermione. I have some supper for you. May I come in?"

She thought she heard a quiet reply, but couldn't quite make it out. She had only been in their bedroom a couple of times when she was helping Ginny change sheets. She felt like she was intruding but continued into the room none the less.

"Ron put a tray together of some soup and toast for you, Mrs. Weasley. Do you think you might be up to trying some?"

Mrs. Weasley looked weak and rumpled in her bed, but she brightened at seeing Hermione and made an effort to sit up and lean against the headboard.

"Thank you, dear. I will try some soup. I am sorry I have been holed up in here while all of you have been so busy."

"Oh please don't be sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I haven't been so strong myself recently."

"Come sit by me, dear," Molly said as she patted the bed. "Arthur told me you had a scare yesterday with your parents' house. Were you able to get everything sorted out today?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Bill and Kingsley helped us break all the curses this morning and then Ron and I worked on the house some this afternoon, but there is still quite a bit left to do."

Hermione felt her eyes unexpectedly fill with tears. She tried to wipe them away before Molly could notice, but to no avail.

"Oh, love, it's alright. Arthur told me what you had to do to protect your parents. You miss your mum and dad, don't you?" she said as she pulled Hermione into a motherly embrace.

Hermione started crying harder.

"I am just so worried about them. I want them to be ok, but I miss them so much. I am terrified they won't remember me after I lift the spell. And I am just as scared they will remember me but will never be able to forgive me."

"Now don't you worry yourself about that, Hermione. I won't pretend I wasn't upset when Arthur told me you'd done. But once I realized that it was all done in love, and how right you were to protect them, I understood. But I can tell you this with total confidence - a mother will never not love her child. Even if someone managed to replace every memory I had of one of my children, I can promise you that there would always be a special part of my heart that was made just to love them. And it would remember. A mother's love is a special kind of magic. You have seen that with Lily's love for Harry. Even a muggle mother has that type of magical love. It is just part of being a mother. Your parents may very well be quite angry, but they will absolutely still love you."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione sniffed. "You are probably right. I am just so scared. And then I really don't know how they could possibly understand everything that I have been through this past year. I mean, I lived it and I still don't understand it. They are so removed from our whole world. I just wonder if they wish they had a daughter who wasn't born a witch. I am their only child, and I feel like I betrayed them and abandoned them."

"I can't possibly understand that struggle, dear. But I can assure you that your parents want nothing more than to see you happy. We can help them understand our world. And Merlin knows Arthur would love to understand theirs."

Hermione giggled as Molly continued, "I hope you know I love you like a daughter, Hermione. And I am so thrilled to see you and Ron have finally worked things out. But I hope you know that even if you and Ron don't end up together in the long run that you will always have a home here."

At this Hermione burst into tears and hugged the woman even tighter.

"I love you, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione sniffed.

"I know, dear. I love you, too. Now, you go on downstairs. I am going to have some soup. Maybe tomorrow I will try to get up a little. I am not ready to do much yet, but it might be time to try and come downstairs for a while."

"While I want to see you back to yourself, I don't know that any of us will go back to who we used to be. Take all the time you need now, Mrs. Weasley. We all love you so much, and we are all here for you – for each other. Things will never be the same again, but eventually we will be ok and learn a new normal I suppose."

Molly simply smiled at her and nodded, and Hermione took that as her cue to leave. As she closed the bedroom door behind her and came onto the landing, she ran into Ron.

"Is everything alright? You look like you've been crying."

"I'm great actually. Your mum is amazing, and I think she knew I needed some motherly love right now."

Ron pulled her into a hug. "I am so glad you talked to her, Hermione. My bet is that it did you both some good. I think she has stayed closed off for so long that she forgot how much we all need some mothering." His voice cracked at the end as his eyes teared up us all. Hermione pulled him closer, and he rested his chin on her head as he held her tightly.

"We're all going to get through this, Ron. You are doing such an amazing job keeping all of us going. I am so very proud of you. And she is too. You have to know that."

He just nodded silently as a few tears spilled down his cheek, hoping desperately her faith in him wasn't misplaced.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The following day was Saturday, allowing Arthur and Percy to stay at The Burrow with Molly and George while, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione set off for her parent's home just after breakfast was cleaned up.

Before leaving Ron had taken a tray up to George, but as usual, Ron found him curled up in Fred's bed refusing to acknowledge his presence. Ron left the breakfast tray on George's old bed any. He invited George to come to the Grangers to help out, but didn't get so much as a curse word in response. So, he just squeezed George's shoulder and headed out.

The four of them worked hard at the Granger's home the whole day. Harry and Hermione delighted in introducing the red heads to the joys of pizza delivery at lunch. Ron declared he might have to move to Italy. Ginny just nodded in agreement as she took another slice of pepperoni.

After lunch Harry and Ginny headed to the kitchen to work on the cupboards while Ron and Hermione returned to her dad's study where the shelves had been damaged to work there. Ron watched Hermione carefully as she danced her fingers over the spines of her father's books. In that moment he suddenly realized that he hadn't seen Hermione read a book since the battle. No wonder she seemed off! Even in that damn tent she was always reading a book.

"Have you read all of these?" he broached softly.

"Umm…most of them. I haven't read all of the dentistry books. Even I can't get that excited about books about teeth. But, I've probably read the rest of them at some point."

"Do your parents love reading as much as you do?"

"Not really," she said. "I mean they like reading, but they don't devour books quite the way I do. I, well, I never had a lot of friends when I was little, so books became that for me. Not just in escaping to stories, but in reading great writers who made me think about things differently. I know that sounds so swotty, but it is just how it was for me."

Ron felt particularly ashamed of his 11 year old self at that moment.

"I really can't imagine what it was like growing up without siblings," he said. "There was always so much noise and chaos, especially with the twins. I think even if I had wanted to enjoy a book I can't imagine I could have found a chance to sit alone and read it. I even remember thinking – wishing even - that I didn't have so many siblings – that maybe if there were fewer of them, Mum and Dad would pay more attention to me, or maybe I could get new trousers that fit or something. And now..." He gasped as a sob caught in his throat, and soon Hermione came up behind him and held him in her arms. "How could I have wished him away? I can never take that back!" he cried.

"You were a little boy, Ron. You didn't really want him to die, you were only trying to imagine a way to get more time with your parents. You loved Fred, and he loved you. I am no expert on sibling relationships. But I have been around your family long enough to know that your teasing and fighting is part of how your family shows affection to each other. Having such a large family with so many people to love and be loved by is a gift. But it can be a hard gift to be grateful for when you are a five year old boy with five older brothers and a little sister!"

"But now we are so broken," he whispered. "George won't even yell at me. Mum won't come downstairs. Percy is back but he seems to walk around brooding even more than Harry, and I don't seem to have the energy to yank their heads out of their arses."

"Language, Ronald. Your family is going to get better. It hasn't even been two weeks. When I talked to your mum last night she sounded better to me than even a few days ago."

"But they will never be like they were before..."

"No. They won't. And I don't think we will either. But I still believe we are all going to be ok. Even if we are different, we are going to be ok."

They stood there quietly just holding each other for some time when Ron finally broke the silence.

"You don't read anymore," he said, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"What?"

"You haven't been reading at all. I haven't seen you with a book since we left Shell Cottage."

"That's absurd," she argued. "Surely I have read something since then."

"Maybe you have. Maybe I just haven't seen it. But, you used to always have a book in your hand. Even one you'd read a hundred times. Even in the tent. And it just seems so weird that you haven't been doing that these past few weeks. And I hadn't really noticed it – not until I saw you in here with your parents' books." He looked down at her and realized she had tears falling down her cheeks.

"I hadn't noticed either," she whispered.

"I don't want to sound like I am accusing you. I'm sorry if it came across that way, you know I'm rubbish at knowing how to say things," he said as he rubbed circles on her back with her head tucked under his chin. "It's just – I know we are going to be different when we come out the other side of this. Maybe some things will be good – better even. Maybe we won't fight so much. But – but you not reading just seems too different to be ok. We still need to be ourselves, you know? And you without reading isn't you." His voice broke on the last words, and then he spoke again. In a quieter voice almost to himself he whispered, " _My Hermione_ loves books."

She just nodded and let the tears fall, finally whispering, "Yes. Yes, she does."

He cried too, and held her close.

Later that evening when they all arrived back at The Burrow, Ron and Hermione headed to the kitchen to start dinner. Ron had asked Percy to come for supper as well, and they decided to try to roast a chicken that evening as everyone was getting tired of sandwiches and soup for every meal. Hermione was putting the warm rolls into a bowl when Ron pulled the chicken out of the oven.

"It doesn't quite look like Mum's," he observed. "But it doesn't look burnt."

"I think it looks great," Hermione said encouragingly. "Looks better than any chicken I've ever made. I'm really proud of you. I hope you're proud of yourself."

"Thanks, Love," he said as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "But hold the praise 'til you taste it, yeah?"

"OK," she laughed.

As they called the family to dinner, everyone was shocked to see Mrs. Weasley come down the stairs.

"Oh Mollywobbles, I am so pleased you've come down to supper," said a beaming Arthur. And then he took her hand and led her to the table where he pulled out her chair like they were on a date. Molly didn't say much throughout the meal, but she did praise Ron and Hermione for making such a good dinner. Ginny and Ron entertained the group telling everyone all about their day in the muggle world. From Ron's description of the miracle that was pizza delivery to Ginny's description of the various kitchen appliances she had spent the day cleaning, Arthur was entranced. Harry talked him through the differences between a dishwasher and a washing machine, and Hermione helped him understand that they had to use different, special soaps for the different machines. Everyone chuckled as Molly explained that she never needed a dishwasher as she had more than enough children to clean up the dishes. Once they had finished their pudding, Arthur helped Molly back upstairs. Harry, Ginny and Hermione headed to the sitting room, but Percy lingered to help Ron clean up the kitchen.

"You didn't say much at dinner, Perc. You alright?"

"Oh, yes, thank you. Just trying to find my balance like everyone else."

"It was good to see Mum come down to dinner, though, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely. Seems like it will still be a while before she will be back to her old self, though. But it was wonderful to see her at the table."

"I don't know that any of us will ever be back to our old selves, really."

"I suppose you are right. I guess that is good for me in a way, as I had become a real prat."

"Can't argue with that," said Ron, but in a tone that betrayed his love as well as his forgiveness.

"I know. I'm sorry. I was such an idiot. By the time I realized my mistakes I was so far in I couldn't just walk away without putting a lot of people at risk. So I had to find another way to be able to live with myself."

"Whadya do?"

"Didn't feel like much at the time, though I guess it is proving helpful now." Percy looked up and saw the perplexed look on his little brother's face, so he tried to explain. "We all know that all I have ever been good at is being a paper pusher. A bureaucrat. Someone who knew exactly what the rules were, who was empowered to make what decisions and how to keep track of all of it in a very orderly fashion."

"Hard to argue with that either," chuckled Ron.

"Precisely. So, eventually I figured out a way to use that for good. Since I was so good at record keeping, I was also that good at stealing, forging and manipulating records. I _couldn't_ watch any more families broken up or muggle-borns get sent away. I just couldn't, Ron. So, I manipulated the Muggle Born Registry that Umbridge had developed. She trusted me implicitly, so it was quite easy to go in, steal the original and replace it with forged lists. Whenever possible I would make the smallest changes possible to keep it looking legitimate. For example, I would keep the whole family's name and address, but simply change the town and the street number. And since I was the one who sent out the summons via owl, I could tell the owl something like 'take this to the Jones family in Manchester, but be sure not to deliver it to anyone who isn't Melissa and Simon Jones at 123 Main St in Manchester. And if you can't find them at that address, then bring it straight back.'

"And when I wasn't able to keep from bringing a family in or breaking them up, I kept meticulous records of who was being sent where in the hopes that when everything was over we could help reunite families. It was the small children I was most concerned about, as they wouldn't be old enough to remember their birth names. I couldn't help everyone. And I am still haunted by the faces of people I couldn't save. But I guess we are all haunted by things now. Somehow that burden is what I must carry from here out."

He was quiet for a moment and then continued, "But the manipulation worked. And after Kinglsey arrested Umbridge I was able to give him all of the records. Not only is it all of the evidence we'll need to put her away for the rest of her life, along with a number of other key individuals, but we are also able to right many of the wrongs that were done. We are reuniting families, bringing back muggle-borns who had been sent to Azkaban, and tracking down the magical children who had been removed from their parents. But I was the utter prat, and yet Fred was the one who died. Where is the justice in that?"

Ron stared at him for a full minute and then said, "Percy, that's fucking incredible. I had no bloody idea you'd done all of that. That's fantastic. You could have been found out and sent to Azkaban! Or worse!"

"What, like you weren't taking risks, Mr. Most Wanted Number 3?"

"No, well, yes – but, I had support. I had Harry and Hermione there. You were all alone!"

"Well, I was," he said sheepishly. "But then I eventually met someone who helped me."

Ron chuckled as Percy's ears turned red as all the Weasleys did when they were embarrassed.

"Oh, I get it! Who is she, Perc? And why haven't any of us met her yet?"

Percy was close to a magenta shade now. "Audrey. Her name is Audrey Mileham. She was a Hufflepuff a year ahead of me at Hogwarts, but we never really got to know each other in school. She was working at the Ministry and had made the same mistakes in believing the party line that I had. But, she had also come to realize her mistake but couldn't find a way out. She caught me in one of the file rooms late one evening replacing some of the muggle born registry lists. Something in her eyes made me trust her, and once she realized what I was doing, she immediately started helping as well. And, well, things just sort of went from there."

"Brilliant. So, why haven't I had the chance to meet the amazing Ms. Audrey Mileham yet?"

"Well, it hasn't exactly been a good time to bring her home to meet everyone, has it?"

"No. I suppose not."

"Dad has met her, and he knows what she and I did to undermine the Ministry, but he doesn't know we are together. It's alright, though. She understands what happened and is ok with waiting a while to meet everyone. And she is being very patient with not seeing much of me outside of lunch right now. She was there at Fred's funeral, but she mixed into the back, and it was such a large group that no one really noticed her. But, it meant a lot to me to have her there."

"She sounds really brilliant, Percy. And I am really glad you two were able to be there for each other."

Percy just nodded, "She is. I'm one lucky bloke."

"And you know, you need to stop beating yourself up. No one wishes you had died instead of Fred. We all wish he hadn't died, of course. But we all love you just as much as we love Fred. We all make mistakes. It's just – sometimes we make bigger ones, and it takes a while to get back to being who we want to be. Trust me, I understand that one painfully well."

"Right," scoffed Percy. "What would you know about betraying the people and ideals you love? You're part of the sodding Golden Trio."

Ron was quiet as he fiddled with a dishtowel on the counter.

"Things are never quite as they appear, Perc. You of all people should know that. I – well – last year I fucked up in a massive way. There was some dark magic involved and all that, but it was me. I did it. And I don't know that I'll ever forgive myself for it. But those involved have forgiven me and keep trying to get me to leave it behind me." He sighed again. "Well, I can say it is much easier to forgive others than to forgive yourself. And I can't be the hypocrite who expects you to forgive yourself and move on like nothing has happened. But, I'll tell you – what I have been able to take from this whole fucked up experience is a clear vision of the man I want to be and who I don't want to be. And having that picture in front of me...well, at the very least I have something to strive for, even if I never get there."

Percy stared, slightly dumfounded at his younger brother. Finally he found his voice and said, "Ron, I don't know what happened, and I don't need to. But I can assure you that the person deep inside your soul would never, ever hurt or betray the people you love or the beliefs you hold dear. So, maybe there was dark magic involved. Maybe it was just the stress of the whole future of the magical world being on your shoulders when you were only seventeen years old. I don't know. But, please, know this: you are _precisely_ the kind of wizard I am striving to be."

Ron shook his head saying, "Then you have the wrong role model, Perc. And you have the wrong idea of who I ended up being when the shite hit the fan. I more or less did the same thing you did. I was just able to get back a little quicker."

"I highly doubt that, Ronald. I abandoned my family! Who does that?"

"Me," he said angrily, chucking the dishtowel into the sink. " _I_ fucking did that."

"What are you talking about? Last I checked you are the Weasley Family's personal Guardian Angel. First you save the world, and now you are personally ensuring that not only your girlfriend finds her parents and your best friend doesn't feel responsible for the war but also that your entire family is fed three times a day! Give yourself a bloody break!"

"I left them Percy! I fucking abandoned them. I regretted it as soon as I realized I didn't have a way back. But, Hermione and Harry are my family too. And I fucking abandoned them in the middle of nowhere being hunted by Death Eaters and having to babysit an object possessed by Voldemort himself. They could have died. Almost did actually, several times. But I. Fucking. Walked. Away."

Percy was quiet for a moment to absorb what his baby brother had said, and then asked, "How long did it take you realize you needed to go back?"

"Well, I was caught by snatchers as soon as I'd left them. So, I had to break out of that situation first. But by the next morning I was able to break loose and head back. It wasn't until I apparated back to where I had left them and realized they were gone that I even understood what I had done. And what I had lost. Or who I had become. One of the two worst moments of my entire life."

"Blimey. What was the other one?"

"Listening to Hermione be tortured by Bellatrix while I was locked in a dungeon powerless to do a damn thing about it," he said quietly, avoiding Percy's eyes.

Percy blanched but nodded. "Right. Sorry. Well, from where I stand, it seems the two worst moments in your life were when you – due to circumstances beyond your control - were separated from Hermione when she was in danger. But it also looks to me like you moved heaven and earth and then some to get back to her both times. And it sure as hell didn't take you over a year to figure what had happened. And THAT, little brother, is who you really are. You're right. We all make mistakes. Some of us make significantly bigger ones than others. But, it is how quickly we realize it and what we do to rectify it that is the true mark of who we are. But you are also right that it seems it is easier to forgive than to accept forgiveness, so I won't lecture you on that. But if it is quite alright with you, I'll also stick with my earlier assessment that you are precisely the type of wizard I am striving to be."

Ron looked at Percy and sighed. "We could be here all night beating ourselves up while trying to convince the other to forgive himself."

"Apparently so."

"What if we both promise to keep working on forgiving ourselves? Or at least trying to believe the people we hurt when they keep telling us we are forgiven?"

Percy gave a small, tight smile. "I'd say that is probably as good a place as any to start being the wizards we want to be." Then he gave a big brother smirk and added, "So the witches we love will be willing to put up with us for the long haul."

Ron finally cracked a smile at that. "Damn, Percy, I am just not used to this new version of you that makes everyone laugh!"

"What can I say, I worked with Umbridge closely for almost a year without the benefit of the twins' one liners to make it tolerable. So, I had to start a mental running commentary of what they would have said had they been with me. And, as it turned out, the twins in my head were pretty damn funny."

"You even had Fred laughing at the end."

"Yeah. I did," he sighed wistfully.

"Glad he had a chance to hear your one-liners in person before he died, because he would never have believed it when George finally catches up to him in a few decades."

Percy chuckled. "We are a sick, sick family, you know?"

"Yup."

Percy shook his head again and swotted his baby brother with a dishtowel.

"I'll finish up in here. You go find your amazing witch in the other room."

"Only if you promise I'll get to meet yours one of these days."

"Sorted," nodded Percy, so Ron smiled and headed into the other room.

In the living room he found Harry and Ginny playing exploding snap. Then he looked over to the sofa where Hermione was curled up with her feet tucked under her and saw she was reading a book causing his heart to skip a beat. She looked up at him, smiled and then motioned for him to sit next to her.

"What are you reading?" he asked with smiling eyes.

"A book on Australia that I found in Dad's study."

"Brilliant," he beamed. Then he laid down on the couch with his head in her lap so he could watch the card game while she read. He grinned as he smelled the swirl of old books and vanilla in his amortentia while she lazily stroked his hair as she read. And for one blissful moment he felt like maybe, just maybe, they might come out of this ok in the end.


	5. Chapter 5

**_A/N:_**

 ** _(Re-posted this to fix typos)_**

 ** _I wanted to say thank you for all of your notes and reviews. I so appreciate the feedback! Here's a heads up...this chapter is where things start to turn to an M rating. Be forewarned and move on to the next one if it isn't for you (or isn't appropriate for you)._**

 ** _And now, onto chapter 5...carrytheotter_**

Chapter 5

The next days went by in a blur. Ron felt like he was on a hamster wheel. He was exhausted mentally and physically – not to mention emotionally, but there just never seemed to be an opportunity to stop and catch his breath for a few hours. He was waking up at least once each night to ease Hermione through the nightmares before she would wake up from them. Then he was up long before dawn each morning to make breakfast before his dad and brother would head off to work. Then as soon as breakfast was cleaned up, he would set off for the Granger's home to work on the repair project. On weekdays Harry would come while Gin took care of George and his mum, but on weekends she was able to come as well when Percy or his dad could stay home. Then as soon as they got home from the Granger's he would make dinner, clean everything up and collapse into bed before starting it all over again.

But, the hard work was beginning to pay off as the progress they had made on Hermione's parents' house was finally visible. Luckily there hadn't been any real structural damage, so it had been just a lot of grunt work to get it done. They'd cleaned and painted and replaced the carpet where needed. Earlier that day they had been working on some of the final touches like hanging curtains, getting the pictures hung on the walls and re-filling the empty picture frames around the house. Hermione and Harry kept going on about how much easier this was with magic compared to doing it the muggle way. As Ron was exhausted from doing it the magic way, he couldn't even imagine trying to do it without the assistance of a wand. Not to mention a brilliant witch. When they'd gotten back to The Burrow he'd popped up the stairs to check on both George and his mum, but both were feigning sleep. With a sigh he headed up to his room to change into clean clothes before heading downstairs to get started on dinner.

As he took of his trousers, he reached into the pocket and pulled out the three muggle photos he had stashed there. After using his wand to make sure there were no creases or wrinkles, he carefully placed them on his dresser. While he was still rather creeped out by the still, flat faces in muggle photos, he couldn't help but grin at the sight of them.

While at The Granger's home he and Harry had "helped" Hermione find photos to put in frames around the house. Their help turned out to be more time consuming, however, as they both insisted on enjoying the many pictures of the big toothed, bushy haired little girl. He and Harry had chuckled at the classically-Hermione pictures. There was one where her mum was trying to get her to look at some new toy, but instead Hermione is plopped down reading a book that was clearly too old for her. And, there was another where a toddler Hermione had clearly slipped away from her parents in a library or bookstore, found the largest book in the place, apparently of old maps, and was trying to carry it but was having to lean backwards to keep from falling forward with the weight of it. But, despite the endearing nature of those pictures, he couldn't help but notice that there were never any other children in the pictures. Every now and then there seemed to be an older cousin or other assorted family members, but no little playmates.

He looked down at the first picture in the stack and frowned. It had clearly been taken right after she had bought her school supplies for her first year at Hogwarts. She was standing in her bedroom holding her wand proudly and wearing her new robes with a huge smile on her face. She looked happier and more excited than she had in any of the other pictures he'd seen. But, when he'd suggested she put it in a frame for her parents, she'd creased her brow and said she didn't want to have a picture that reminded them of magic. It just didn't seem right, Ron thought, that the person who was openly acknowledged as the most brilliant witch in the whole country had to downplay her magical gifts and abilities to her own parents. But, looking back at the picture he felt the corner of his mouth turn up to a smile. She was clearly so happy in that photograph, and it was that exact sparkle in her eye he wanted to help her find again.

He flipped to the second photograph he'd copied. It was one of the three of them from second year. They looked so young, so eager and so happy. But, more than anything, you could see the early proof of the incredible bond the three of them had even then.

And then there was the last picture. He felt more bittersweet seeing that one. Hermione had said it was from a cousin's wedding the previous summer only a few weeks before she altered their memories. She was in the same dress she wore a few weeks later to Bill and Fleur's wedding, and it still took Ron's breath away. Her face was fuller, as it was before she'd lost all of the weight from the hunger of the horcrux hunt. But, there was a look in her eyes in the photograph – somehow a cross between sadness, determination and love. She was clearly trying to relish those last days with her family while simultaneously being both impatient and terrified to start the hunt. And, that confluence of emotions was clearly swirling in her eyes, visible even in a still muggle photograph. It so perfectly captured her that he knew he had to have a copy as soon as he saw the picture. She was stunningly gorgeous, but clearly oblivious to it. She was clearly a million miles away already trying to solve the puzzle left for them, and yet she was desperately trying to live in that moment, trying to be present with her muggle parents and trying to fill each of their last days together with love.

He sighed, shook his head briefly at the pictures of the incredibly complex witch he loved, and headed down to join her in the kitchen to make dinner. He was busy getting the potatoes into the pot when Hermione came downstairs. She had clearly taken a quick shower and smelled fresh and clean.

"Where are Harry and Ginny?" she asked as she started on the peas and carrots.

"I told Harry to take Gin out for a walk." He laughed at Hermione's surprised expression. "I know, I know. I'm trying hard not to think about what they are getting up to. But, she'd been stuck inside the house all day watching George and Mum and needed some time outside and away from the family. So..." His voice trailed as he tried hard not to conjure a mental image of his best friend and his baby sister. But, he was brought back to the present by the surprise of Hermione kissing his cheek.

"What was that for?" he said.

"You're a good brother and an even better man, Ronald Weasely," she said with a sweet grin. "Now, what can I do to help get this shepherd's pie going?"

He chuckled, and grinned back at her as she joined him at the counter. He gestured to the carrots that needed to be peeled and chopped, and she nodded in her no-nonsense way and set to work.

Their dinner had turned out pretty well. Almost everyone went for seconds, and there wasn't much left over after supper, which had to be a good sign. It wasn't as good as his mum's cooking, but he was encouraged that she seemed to be joining the family for dinner almost every night now. George, however, was another story. He'd tried to take a plate up to him, but George had just slid it immediately back on the landing in front of his door. Ron was trying to be patient with his brother -trying to understand that he hadn't just lost a brother but had lost his other half. But, there was no way he was going to sit by and watch George just fade away like this. Somebody had to do something. And it was starting to look like that somebody was him. Now if could only figure out what to do. He sighed and headed back downstairs with the uneaten tray of food. As he got to the kitchen he saw his sister and two best friends cleaning the pots and pans. He went to join them, but his sister took the tray from him and cut him off.

"We'll get this," Ginny offered. "Why don't you guys go for a walk for a bit? It is gorgeous out this evening."

"Are you sure, Ginny? You've been working here all day," Hermione countered.

"Thanks, but I'm good. Harry and I will hang out here. You two need to get out and enjoy some time together that doesn't involve cleaning homes or cooking. But, you should go now before I get all selfish and bitchy again," Ginny smirked.

"Well, who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?" laughed Ron. "Let's go," he said reaching for Hermione's hand.

"Thank you – it actually sounds lovely. Let me run upstairs and grab a jumper. I'll meet you on the porch, Ron, alright?"

"Brilliant."

Within a few minutes they were walking through the back yard watching the shadows get longer as the sun crept towards the horizon. It was nice to be out in the fresh air for a while. They walked hand in hand not really talking as they made their way past the quidditch pitch and up the hill towards the edge of the orchard. As they'd started their walk, Ron was relaxing into the comfort of the evening and finally getting to be alone with Hermione. But, as they continued, he noticed she was chewing on her bottom lip and was fidgeting like she did was she was anxious. As they walked, Ron felt a shift in the air between them, and it was as if their comfortable silence suddenly evaporated and was replaced by a heavy, awkward wall that had settled between them. With each step, Ron was increasingly slipping into a storm of self-doubt, sure that Hermione had finally come to her senses and was looking for the right way to chuck him. As they strolled silently, his stomach was churning. He could feel his palms getting clammier with each step, and he just knew his face was getting paler while his ears were getting redder by the minute. What the hell was he going to do?

Once they were well into the apple orchard, Hermione finally spoke. "I hate to say this," she sighed, still not looking Ron in the eye.

Ron winced, closing his eyes and holding his breath as he anticipated her next words.

"It's just – well, I just worry that we never actually figured things out about us. I mean, we went from best friends who secretly fancied each other to snogging in the middle of a battle, and now we are even sleeping in the same bed. But, we never really talked about everything, and I just – I just...oh, I don't know. It seems like such a silly teenage girl thing to ask for, but I guess I need us to talk about it. Turns out I actually am a teenage girl after all."

Ron cringed and kept his eyes focused on his worn trainers as they made their way between the rows of old apple trees.

"Hermione," he gulped nervously. "Are you saying you've changed you mind about us?"

"NO! Merlin, no! Ron, I love you. So much!" she yelped as she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him as she squeezed his hand. "I just, I guess I just need to understand what we are to each other. What the expectations are or the boundaries or something like that. I don't know, maybe..."

"OK, good," exhaled Ron, now visibly relieved. "Give me a moment to recover from that heart attack," he laughed nervously as he subconsciously patted his chest.

"Please tell me you didn't really think that, did you?"

"Um, maybe."

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry I scared you, Ron. You must really have no sense of how crazy I am about you. Because if you did you could never think that."

He smiled at her, almost gratefully, as they came out from the edge of the orchard.

"Here, let's sit here a bit, yeah?" he said, gesturing toward a small grove of trees where they could sit in the grass in the shade while looking over the pond.

They sat down, and Ron was searching desperately for the right thing to say, but he kept coming up blank.

"I'm sorry I need us to talk about it," Hermione apologized. "But, I guess that kind of misunderstanding is exactly what I am hoping to avoid. There is no way you could have thought that if you understood how I felt. And, well, our history of misunderstandings is really quite – well..."

"Spectacular?" he said with one side of his mouth tipping up in a crooked smile.

"Exactly," she grinned. "We do 'spectacular' a lot of different ways, huh?"

At that they both laughed, breaking the tension. He stretched out his legs and leaned back against a tree. She scooted over to sit next to him, and he reached his arm around her shoulder as she leaned against him.

"I don't think talking about us is silly, Hermione. And that's coming from a teenage bloke. We aren't exactly well known for wanting to talk about feelings and such. But you – well - it has been insane these past few weeks, and despite everything, having you here has been the one saving grace for me. I hope you know that. I really don't think I could have gotten through the funeral and everything since then without you."

She smiled and turned into his chest a bit, savoring his scent as his arm pulled her closer.

"Would you say we are boyfriend and girlfriend?" she asked, not looking at up at him.

He considered this for a moment and didn't speak right away.

"Well," Ron paused, his hesitation causing her to sit up, looking at him with concern. "Actually, that seems a little too small for us, don't you think? I don't want to minimize what we are by describing you the same way Harry would have described Cho back in 6th year for a few weeks. Seems too trivial or too small or something, I dunno – makes it sound like we're just going on a date to Hogesmeade or some such nonsense. Though, now that I say that out loud, I guess we still haven't actually had the chance to go out on a proper date anywhere yet."

"You're right," she laughed. "We haven't done anything in the normal order of things, but I guess I would expect nothing less for the two of us, huh?"

"Exactly," he grinned. "But, Hermione," he said as his tone grew serious as he let his finger trace a stray curl across her cheek. "I know it will take time for us to figure out how everything will change between us now that we have gone beyond being just friends. But, that doesn't change the fact that you still are my best friend. You just happen to be my best friend who I find so maddeningly attractive and amazing that sometimes I have a hard time paying attention to anyone else in the room."

She blushed at this, smiling up at him. And they sat in comfortable silence for a few moments watching a flock of ducks land on the pond.

"You know," he eventually said, "if we had to pretend that there was someone in the wizarding world who hadn't heard of the most brilliant witch of our age, then, yeah, I would introduce you as my girlfriend. But..."

He plucked at some blades of grass trying to figure out what he wanted to say. She could sense his struggle, and just leaned against him as he worked through his thoughts.

"It's just strange, yeah? I spent so many years getting good at hiding how I really felt for you that now that I'm trying to explain how I feel I can't make the words all line up or something." He shifted his back against the tree and bent his left knee up, leaning his left elbow on it. "Best friend, brilliant witch, war hero, girlfriend – they're all just parts of it, I s'pose. And 'My Hermione' is the sum of all of that, and I love the whole you – all of those pieces together. And I have for years. And maybe that was part of my problem. It was scary to a 14 year old nitwit to realize that what I would see in the Mirror of Erised would be you. Just you. And it was terrifying and depressing because I really never thought that could possibly happen. But, for years now, whenever I try to picture anything in my future, it's always included you. It'll take time for us to figure things out, but now we have that shot. By some bizarre twist of fate or luck or whatever, we both survived the war. And while I am devastated about losing Fred, he would probably come back here and haunt me forever if I let you slip away from me now. While I am still not convinced I deserve you, Hermione Granger, I'll be damned if I let you go."

She stared up at him somewhat in awe as tears came to her eyes, "I've always known you were amazing, but when did you become so eloquent, Ronald Weasley?"

"Uh, not sure about that," he laughed. "Maybe when you kissed me you somehow transferred some of you brilliant superpowers to me?"

"Well, I hope that I got some of your amazing heart in return. Because I feel the same way. I love you so much, and no matter what different futures I could ever imagine for myself, I just couldn't picture one without you right next to me, though I never believed you could see me that way either. But, then at the end of 6th year I started to wonder if maybe it was possible. Maybe you could think of me as more than a friend. But I knew with us it would have to be all or nothing, really. And – well – we tried the nothing part, and it about killed me. So, after you were poisoned I knew I would do anything to keep you in my life, even if you didn't feel the same way. You were too important, and I wasn't myself without you by my side. But the intensity of what I feel now– well – it's scary for me too. I mean, in the muggle world you don't start thinking about really long term relationships until you're out of college at the earliest. And we're so young. Well, I guess we are technically so young. These days I feel rather ancient most of the time. But, what I am trying to say is part of my brain keeps telling me I am too young to be this certain. But when it comes down to it, I am this certain. I have been this certain about you for a long, long time. But, I guess like you are, I am trying to get used to the idea that you feel the same way, and we may actually have a chance." She took a deep breath and asked, "Does it not scare you sometimes to feel this way when you are just a teenager?"

He sat for a moment and then said, "I hadn't thought too much about it that way, I guess. It scared me when I was younger, but mostly because I thought you couldn't possibly care for me the same way. But now, well, maybe I don't feel much like a teenager anymore anyway. I mean, don't get me wrong, a part of me wishes we'd had a chance to just worry about quidditch and exams and Hogesmeade. But that wasn't the life we got. And, I wouldn't have wanted to wait another decade to meet you because it would mean we had less time together overall. Look, we both know we came very close to losing each other too many times over the past year – well years, really. You know, we really have had a messed up childhood now that I think about it. But, anyway, what was I saying? Oh, right, yeah. The idea of trying to face a future without you was too painful to consider. And in those moments where I thought I was about to lose you, the dream of us both being safe _and_ alive _and_ actually together seemed too much to even hope for. But it came true. And it feels like it would be giving some sort of rude gesture to the universe or something if I took one second of it for granted. So, I think I'm not so much scared of being this sure and this in love as a teenager. But I am probably more than a little bit scared of screwing it up."

"You're not going to screw it up."

"Well, I hope not. But, if I do, just know it won't be because I don't love you more than life itself."

"I was so wrong about your emotional range," she giggled softly.

"I am at least a tablespoon by now, huh?" he teased.

"Maybe closer to a pint. Are you thinking that's from the kissing too? Vocabulary and emotional range?"

"It's a plausible theory, at least. Maybe I should kiss you again and see if I can get even better," he said, his laughter fading to a deeper whisper as he looked in her eyes.

"Yes, I think that is a brilliant plan," she muttered softly as he leaned down to capture her lips in his.

Other than the few poorly timed moments in the kitchen, they'd never really had a chance like this. Their physical relationship was new and uncharted territory for both of them. He was torn between everything his instinct was telling him, which was to snog her senseless her right there and then, and the screaming part of his brain which was warning him to take it slow, to be a gentleman, and to not scare her off.

She immediately responded to his kiss, her soft tongue gently exploring his mouth. Her fingers rose to his face, softly tracing the line of his jaw as her thumb rested on his cheek. He melted into her touch, groaning in the back of his throat. The sound urged her on, as she ran her fingers through his hair and then ever so lightly across the tips of his now beet red ears. He moved one hand to her tiny waist and the other to her back, pulling her even tighter to him. She sighed happily and sucked on his bottom lip, grazing it with her teeth. He was so turned on he was getting concerned he would go too far too fast, and he felt all the blood in his body quickly heading south. He was trying to convince himself to pull back and walk them back to the house when suddenly he felt her turn, moving one leg across his thigh, and suddenly she was in his lap straddling him while still kissing him madly.

The sudden contact caused his cock to harden immediately, and he knew she could feel it beneath her perfect bum. He looked at her with concern to see if she would pull away and was shocked when he realized not only was she not repulsed, but she seemed to be truly enjoying it. She even started wriggling in his lap, promptly causing his eyes to flutter shut as he tilted his head back with a groan.

"Do you have any idea what you are doing to me?" he gasped in a raspy voice.

"Yes, I think I do actually," she whispered against his lips as she continued to rock her hips against his. One of her hands was in his hair, holding his head to hers while the other was roaming across his chest. Not believing that she really understood, but no longer having the verbal ability to form a response, Ron tentatively moved his hands to her bum and squeezed her arse as he rolled his hips up to meet her. Instead of deterring her as he'd expected, this only served to rocket her into a more passionate response. He couldn't believe it. This was Hermione Fucking Granger. Miss Prim and Proper Watch Your Language Prefect. And, she was grinding herself against his raging cock stand! Had this randy Hermione been hiding in front of his eyes all this time?

Before he even realized what he was doing, he'd rolled her onto her back and suddenly her legs were wrapped around his waist. He tried to support his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her, but she seemed to be loving having his full weight on her and kept pulling him closer. Next thing he knew her tiny, soft hands were tugging his shirt out of his trousers, and he felt her incredibly delicate fingers like lightning bolts against his skin, and he found himself groaning and sighing into her mouth as she explored him.

Rallying his stunned brain for a moment, he concluded she was setting the boundaries, and it was his turn, so he found his hands against her skin under her jumper. Part of him expected her to scold him, but she managed to truly blow his mind by sighing "yes, Ron" into his ear. He almost came in his trousers right then and there just at the sound of her saying his name in that fucking sexy, breathy voice he hadn't even known she'd had.

His hungry hands explored her skin, stroking and caressing her back as he continued to kiss her passionately. He cautiously avoided touching her bra at all, as he again didn't want to send her running. Her jumper had ridden up, and her smooth stomach was exposed, which he quickly kissed as well. Then just when he thought his nervous system couldn't absorb one more shock, she stunned him again by swiftly pulling off her jumper and shirt in one quick arm motion, leaving her in just a pale blue cotton bra. He stared at her in dazed disbelief for a moment, not saying a word, simply mesmerized by the sight before him. Stunned, he moved automatically as if confounded to hurriedly yank off his own shirt as well and then simply stared at her in wonder. All he could see was her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths and her eyes totally dilated and full of lust. For him!

"Trousers stay on," she muttered as she suddenly attacked his chest with her mouth.

He simply nodded, dumbstruck at what was happening. Before he knew it, she had rolled them over and now he was on his back with her straddled across him with nothing above her waist except her bra. Her hair was wild and even had leaves and twigs stuck to it at this point. It was so much better than any wanking fantasy he had could have ever imagined. Just as he was beginning to convince himself this was all actually happening, she took his breath away yet again as she sucked on his nipples, grazing them with her teeth before moving back up to kiss his pulsepoint. He must have hissed out some noise, because it made her chuckle against his skin for a moment, and the next thing he knew she had sat back up straight as she gently ran her hands over his chest and stared at him. He was trying to take her all in as she gave him a sweet yet fucking sexy smile. She was moving her hips against him, building the friction against the most deliciously painful arousal he'd ever experienced. Instinctively he moved his hands to her hips and then let them fall to her arse with a squeeze as he bucked up against her core. She whimpered as she grinned again, reached for his hands and moved them from her bum up to cover her breasts.

Once he reminded himself to breathe again he gasped, "Fuck, Hermione. You are perfect."

"More small than perfect," Hermione said blushing, still pressing his hands to her chest.

"No. You're absolutely perfect," he said as he gently squeezed her breasts and let his fingers ghost over her shockingly hard nipples.

She gasped at the movement, and he wasn't sure if it was delight or surprise but decided either was ok by him. She had arched her back, closing her eyes as she leaned into the sensation. Unable to restrain himself another moment, he rolled her onto her back and moved his mouth over the thin cotton fabric covering her right breast, taking her taught nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, God," she muttered as she tightened her legs around his waist and clutched his head to her chest.

"Ok?" he mumbled against her chest, letting his nose rub against her soft flesh and inhaling her scent.

"More than," she whimpered as he felt her hips pulse up beneath him.

This made him grin against her chest as he moved his mouth to her other breast and massaged the now wet breast with his hand. He was lost in her and almost didn't notice as she arched her back trying to sit up a moment. When he realized she was trying to get him to sit up he pulled back in worry, concerned he had pushed them too far too fast. But then she stunned him once again as she moved her hands to her back, unclasped her bra and threw it to the side leaving her completely bare above the waist, just like him.

"Holy fuck," he stammered, flabbergasted as he felt his eyes practically bulging out of his head. He was sure he was about to die from the combination of shock and arousal and forgot to breathe for several moments.

"Fuck, Hermione, you're so beautiful – better than perfect. Can't even find words for...bloody hell..." he finally gasped as he let his lips fall to her bare chest.

Once again atop of her, he took her right breast into his mouth, rolling her nipple in his tongue while tending the other with his hand. He had Hermione's breast in his mouth. He had Hermione's fucking breast in his mouth! It really was a miracle he didn't come at that exact moment. She was so fucking soft. And perfect. And her skin looked like honey-colored porcelain somehow, with her nipples much rosier, almost the shade of her lips but not quite the same – maybe a bit more bronzed like her skin. Whatever the name of that color, he immediately decided it was his new favorite. Just thinking that, he grinned against her bare chest, now flicking her nipple with his tongue as she writhed beneath him. He could not fucking believe he was doing this right now. That Hermione was doing this right now. With him! Fucking unbelievable.

They were lost like that for some time, with him tasting every inch of her chest. But she eventually tugged his mouth back up to hers. And while he initially missed the feel of her breast in his mouth, he instantly became aware of how fucking incredible her naked breasts felt against his skin. Especially since they were still wet. From his mouth. He was definitely approaching sensory overload as he relished in the sensation of her soft, wet breasts and pebbled nipples against his chest, and the way her silken, bare back felt as he ran his calloused hands over her skin. As if all of this wasn't enough to fry his brain, she was whimpering into his ear, making these incredible little breathy noises encouraging his exploration of her body. And every now and then she would moan something that sounded a hell of a lot like his name, which was like a jolt straight to his already straining cock. Then she'd continued her own exploration of him, finding places on his chest and neck that he hadn't even known would be arousing until she discovered them with her brilliant mouth.

Eventually they stilled their mutual exploration and simply lay skin to skin, savoring in this new familiarity with each other's bodies. They were curled up into each other, with him tracing patterns over her naked back while she seemed to be counting freckles on his chest, which made him chuckle. They were so lost in each other that they didn't notice how late it was until the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky quickly shifted from pinks and oranges to the purples and blues of twilight. While Ron wanted to freeze time and stay there forever, he knew it couldn't be.

"As much as I don't want to, we should probably get dressed and head back up before someone comes looking for us. And I know you are starting to get cold because I can feel you shivering. Even if it is a travesty to think of you putting your bra back on."

She laughed as she leaned up for a last kiss. "A travesty? Maybe you are picking up vocabulary words from my kisses."

"Well, I know I am learning all kinds of things from you," he said with a wicked smile as he let his hands dance over her breasts.

"Mmm," she hummed in appreciation of his touch letting her eyes flutter shut again.

But she eventually sat up to get dressed, as did he. Once they were both fully clothed, he looked at her, laughed and reached to pluck a leaf out of her hair.

"Oh, goodness, Ron – are there any more?" she yelped, running her fingers madly through her curls. "I really would be horribly embarrassed if your father saw that."

"No, it was just that one. You look amazing as usual. All prim and proper again – even though now I know better," he added as he went back for one more passionate kiss as he leaned her against a tree trunk.

She swatted his arm playfully. "Oh, so now I am a slag, huh?"

"No! You're definitely not a slag, Hermione," he responded quickly, pulling his face back so he could see the seriousness in his eyes. "I – you know I am rubbish at this – but, I just can't get over how ridiculously lucky I feel that I get to be the one to see this side of you."

"This side?" she laughed gesturing to the front of her chest.

"Well, yes, I am a particular fan of that side of you," he said through a crooked grin as his hands roamed over her now fully clothed breasts. "But that's not what I meant." She stopped and looked up, and he could see her swirling chocolate eyes. He moved his hands around her waist pulling her close. "Just – you're amazing."

She blushed, "You are the only one who has ever made me feel this way, Ron. It's only you that makes me want act this way or do these things. You bring out this whole other side of me I didn't even know was there." She paused and took a steadying breath before she continued, "I know I am not very experienced at all of this – the physical part, the relationship part – all of it. You'll have to help me..."

He cut her off, "Hermione, it's not like I have any experience either."

"Lavender always made it sound as if you two..."

"Hermione," he cut her off again. "You and I have already gone _far_ beyond what happened with Lavender," he assured her. "That was a mistake from the start, and it never should have happened at all. And I am so sorry. But, please believe me when I tell you that physically we did nothing beyond fully clothed snogging, and it sure as hell wasn't in the same universe of what we just did. And emotionally it never even got started because I was too busy pining away about you, but too much of a bloody chicken to just end it with her. So trust me –neither of us really have any idea what we are doing I suppose."

"Is it awful that I am really so happy to hear you say that?" she asked with a relieved smile. "I guess we will figure it out together, and I love that."

"So do I. But, Hermione..." he exhaled slowly. "I don't want to go faster than you are ready for. I mean, we don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You just need to stop me if I go too fast, ok? My brain sort of shut off for a bit there. You are just so gorgeous. And you were so perfect and amazing and well – _so bloody naked_ , I suppose, that I couldn't even think..." he shook his head sheepishly. "Well, what I'm trying to say is I don't ever want to push you to do something you aren't ready to do, ok?"

"Well, thanks for that– but have you _ever_ known me to do _anything_ I didn't want to do? Or to _ever_ not stop you from trying to make me do something I wasn't ready for?"

"Uh – no."

"Exactly. And I know I may not be totally my old self these days, but don't think for one second that that part of me has changed. You have to trust me too. Sorted?"

"Sorted," he smiled.

"Good," she said as she stretched up to peck him on the cheek. "Now let's go back before they send out a search party."

He grinned at what seemed another piece of his Hermione falling back in place, and they headed back to the house together.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

He'd been fast asleep, dreaming he was re-living his evening by the pond with Hermione when suddenly the dream changed from arousal to searing pain. Ron bolted awake only to realize Hermione, clearly in the middle of a nightmare, was kicking and thrashing in the bed, which is how she'd ended up kicking him firmly in the bollocks.

Unlike her usual pattern, she didn't seem to be stuck in a nightmare he was familiar with. Instead of sounding like she was enduring the cruciatus or wrestling with the pain of obliviating her parents or the fear that they weren't safe, tonight was clearly something different. She was clearly thrashing and fighting someone, muttering things like "Don't trust her, Harry," or "We shouldn't be here, we need to go," and "it's the snake!" But the line that Ron found the most painful was when she started whimpering sadly, "don't die Harry – you can't leave me too" and "Oh Ron, how could you leave me to face this alone?" He knew she was dreaming about recovering from their time at Godric's Hollow, but it was excruciating for Ron to hear her in such pain that was only made worse by his desertion.

Putting aside his own emotional reaction to what she was mumbling, he was able to calm her down before she started screaming or even woke Harry. He kept rubbing her back saying things like, "Harry is asleep in the same room as you. You saved him, and I came back, and we won the war. We are all alive and safe. You're just having a nightmare." When she finally settled, he sat up to have a sip of water to try and calm himself down. But soon he discovered it wasn't only his heart that was hurt as he touched his cheek and found a trickle of blood. He realized Hermione had actually cut his face with her fingernails from fighting off the imaginary Nagini in her nightmare.

Once he was convinced she was sleeping peacefully, he thought he should head to the loo for some dittany before she could see the scratch in the morning and feel guilty about anything. He tiptoed out of his room carrying his wand out of habit and made it to the landing in front of the bathroom before he heard the noise. It was so faint that if he hadn't been in the hallway he probably wouldn't have heard it at all. But, both his ears and the gooseflesh erupting over his body convinced him he'd heard some sort of crash of breaking glass, followed by a thud and then deafening silence.

Adrenaline pumping, his instincts kicked in, and he silently crept down the stairs with his wand drawn and eyes peeled for anything out of place. He tip-toed off the last step but saw nothing as he came around the corner and into the living room, so he continued to the kitchen. A twinkle of light reflected off broken glass caught his eye first, but it was only a fraction of a second later when he came further through the doorway and saw George sprawled seemingly unconscious on the floor still clutching part of a broken glass over a pool of dripping liquid.

"Shite," Ron gasped as he dashed towards his brother's limp body. His eagerness to help his brother had made him forget he was barefoot until the dozens of tiny glass shards were embedded into the soles of his feet, causing an eruption of curses to explode from his mouth.

"Bloody fucking hell! George! GEORGE!"

There wasn't so much as a flicker of response from his brother, causing panic, bile and anger to surge into his chest. He flicked his wand to silence the kitchen as he assessed the situation, then quickly vanished the broken glass from the floor and made his way to across the kitchen to kneel next to George. Ron leaned over to check his brother was breathing and was flooded with relief to see his chest moving slowly up and down and feel the faint breath going in and out of his slightly parted lips. But once close to his brother, Ron was overwhelmed by the stench of Firewhisky and a slew of other potions that seemed to be pooled on the floor.

"George," he pleaded shaking his brother. "Wake up, George. Come on, wake the fuck up, you prat!"

He glanced over the collection of potion bottles that were there on the kitchen table. He recognized the Dreamless Sleep bottle, and he thought the blue bottle was a pain potion his mother used sometimes, and he was certainly familiar with the amber Firewhisky bottle. But, the purple potion wasn't anything he could identify.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck" cursed Ron.

He needed to figure this out NOW. He didn't know if George had tried to kill himself on purpose or if he was just in such a damn mess he had mixed the wrong things together by accident, but either way he needed to get him to wake the fuck up.

" _Renaverate_!" he said as he flicked his wand at his older brother. George started to writhe and moan slightly on the floor but didn't regain consciousness.

"George? George can you hear me?" he shouted into his brother's one ear. "You need to wake up now. Get your arse up, George."

His brother just moaned in response, instinctively curling into the fetal position. Realizing he needed another approach, Ron took two giant steps on his still bare feet over to the cupboard where his mum kept potions and other medical supplies. He grabbed the one he knew from personal experience would make his brother throw up whatever cocktail he had downed. Forcing the vomiting potion down his brother's throat, Ron was soon greeted with a retching George puking up the potions and Firewhisky onto the floor. And onto Ron.

"Whathefuckareyoudoing" groaned George, running the back of his hand across his mouth to clear his lips of the residual vomit.

"I could ask you the same thing, arsehole," said Ron as he vanished the sick from the floor and from both of them. "Here, you need to sit up."

He went to prop his brother up into a sitting position, but George just knocked him away with a violently defensive wave of his arm.

"Leavemethefuckalone," muttered George. "Wait, hand me the Firewhisky, and then leave me the fuck alone."

"Not a damn chance, George. I've tried leaving you alone to manage this your own way, and that was clearly a mistake." He conjured a glass of water and sat next to him on the floor. "I mean, what the fuck, George? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

"I don't think so," muttered George as he tried - and failed - to sit up on his own.

" _You don't think so_? Bloody hell, George!"

"Well," muttered George, clarity slowly sneaking back into his mind. "Lemmesee, I had the Firewhisky, and I remember taking the Dreamless Sleep, but then I thought I should try a potion we had been working on – sort of an upgrade on the daydream potion."

"And the pain potion?"

"Pain potion? I don't remember that one. Guess downing them all at once wasn't a great move."

" _Ya think?"_

George didn't reply to that, but did finally manage to sit upright. He sighed as he ran his hands over his face and then leaned back against the kitchen cupboard. Ron sighed and leaned against the cupboard as well. He _accioed_ a glass for each of them from the cupboard and used his wand to fill them with water. Sipping their water, the brothers then simply sat together on the floor in silence.

"Why are you bleeding?" George finally asked in a croaked whisper.

"Well, let's see. First, Hermione had a nightmare and kicked me in the bollocks, and then she scratched my face open when I was trying to get her to calm down. I was on my way to the loo to put some dittany on it when I heard you pull your little stunt. Then I walked across the fucking broken glass to make you vomit up that crap all over me and get your sorry arse off the floor."

"Tough night."

"No shite."

They sat there in silence for a while longer before Ron hung his face into his hands.

"George, we can't keep on like this. _You_ can't keep on like this. Something's gotta give."

George absorbed his brother's words but said nothing. Ron was too tired and too worn down to worry about stepping on toes anymore. It was too late to worry about hurt feelings or insensitive comments. He was terrified he was going to end up burying another brother. He didn't force George to talk, but he didn't get up and leave either. He simply sat there on the kitchen floor in silent persistence. More than half an hour passed before George finally spoke.

"I don't know how to do this," croaked George helplessly, his head held in his hand as he faced the ground. The sound of tears was now so omnipresent in his voice it barely registered, but the pain and agony in the truth of his words was impossible to miss. "I don't know how to be me without him. So instead I just sleep and hide and drink. I don't know what else to do. Every Single Fucking place there is a memory of us. This room. Our room. The shop. The flat. Everywhere. I can't even take a fucking piss without seeing him in the bathroom mirror. People can't look at me without cringing. 'FredandGeorge' are gone. _WE_ are gone. And I don't have a fucking clue of what to do now."

Ron just nodded in understanding. What could he say? George was right. They sat there for another twenty or thirty minutes before Ron broke the silence.

"I have an idea, George. But, it's a little crazy even for me. So don't say no until you hear me out."

"Crazy is something I am rather experienced in, so let's hear it," George sighed wearily.

"I know you've been up in your room for a while, so I am not quite sure if you know everything that has gone on with Hermione."

"This hardly seems the time to come to me for advice with your bird, ickleRonniekins,"

"Shut it, George. Before we left last summer she knew she had to keep her parents safe. So, being Hermione, she came up with the most complicated and yet terrifyingly brilliant plan possible. She modified their memories, gave them new identities, made them forget they ever had a child and sent them off to Australia to start new lives."

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

"She is scary."

"Don't I know it. Anyway, we have to go find them and undo the spells. We've been working on fixing up their house, which was expertly trashed by Death Eaters so it turns out to be a good thing she sent them away. But, between getting tortured at Malfoy Manor and worrying about her parents she…"

"Did you say tortured?" George cut in.

"Yeah – she –well –it was Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Fuck, Ron. I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"Are you going to let me finish?"

"Oh, please, keep going. Your girl is quite complicated. She almost makes my life look easy."

"Ok. So – ever since the torture she has had these horrible nightmares, and I am the only one who can help her through them. That's why Dad is letting her stay in my room."

"I wondered what that was about."

" _ANYWAY_ she has to go to Australia. I have to go with her because - well – for about a million reasons actually. One of which being she can't sleep without me, but to help her, keep her from another panic attack, keep her safe since there are still Death Eaters trying to kill her and all that."

"Right. Normal meet the parents stuff."

"Right. And I first thought Harry would go, but Ginny needs him here. And Mum will never let Ginny go to Australia right now."

"Right."

"But the only reason they are letting Hermione stay in my room is because Harry is there as apparently we need a bloody chaperone."

"Ok."

"And Percy is suddenly Mr. Good Guy at the Ministry reuniting families and shite."

"Really?" George asked, earnestly surprised and fascinated all at once.

"I know? Weird, huh? But yes - really. And Bill is finally working again and Charlie is long gone to Romania, so that brings me back to you. So - what if – and this is the crazy part – what if you come to Australia with us? It would help Hermione and me out tremendously. And, you know – you've never been there. It's something new. A place to go and just be George. Or to at least try to figure out what that could mean. No one would even know you were part of the infamous duo of British Wizarding fame. You would just be my weird one-eared brother George on holiday with us. I don't know anything about Australia, and I am quite confident Hermione will have us stepping and fetching from the moment we get there. It won't exactly be a pleasure cruise. But at the very least it could be a break from memories around every corner and the chance to try something new or different for a bit. What do you think?"

"I think you were spot on when you described this plan as crazy."

"Warned you."

"But, I've got to say, it is just crazy enough to maybe work. Let me think about it, ok?"

"'Course. Um, do you know what time it is?"

"Quarter past five I think," said George looking at his watch.

"Shite. I need to get breakfast started."

"What? Since when do you make everyone breakfast?"

"Well, since no one else does. I've been doing the cooking for a while now."

"No shite?"

"No shite. Everyone else was either busy or falling apart or working or healing or whatever, and shite just had to get done."

"I wondered what was up with all the bacon sandwiches."

"You're welcome, you ungrateful prat."

"But, Ron – hang on – seriously – you are doing all of the cooking, and best I can tell you haven't slept through the night since the war because you are busy being Hermione's knight in shining armor, or maybe saving my arse, and somewhere in there you rebuilt her parents' house and now you're going to bloody Australia to find them?"

"Right. Was there a question in that?"

"You are Ron, right? My little brother? Famous for sleeping 'til midafternoon and eating 10 times his body weight? Giant puppy paws. Scared of nothing in the world 'cept spiders? What happened?"

"What happened? Well, the last year happened. I lived in a fucking tent for a year and almost went mad from fucking Voldemort possessing me, and then I made the worst mistake of my life and left Harry and Hermione and..."

"Wait – what? _You left them_?!"

"Biggest regret of my life. There was dark magic involved and all that shite, but it was me. I did it. And I eventually figured out how to get back to them. But, I guess I have been trying to make it up to them and to the universe or whatever ever since. They have both told me I'm forgiven, but I'm not really ready to be forgiven, I think. And – well – Hermione getting tortured and Fred getting killed – well everything's just sort of fucked up right now. So, I am just doing what I have to do. Maybe to feel forgivable to myself or some such shite. I dunno. Shite just needed doing, and I am doing it."

"Fuck."

"Exactly," sighed Ron as he started to get up off the floor. Reaching a hand down to help his brother stand up he said, "So – unless you want to help me make breakfast for everyone, I suggest you head up to bed and go to sleep or pretend to sleep or hide in your room for a while. I'll find you later, and we can talk more about Australia."

George nodded and headed for the stairs. But, as he reached the door of the kitchen he paused, turned to his brother and said, "Ron – thanks. For all of it."

Ron just nodded and gave his brother and tight, tired smile and watched as he headed up the stairs. Sighing, he turned back to the hob and started the tea. He cleaned up the mess from the night before and got breakfast ready. It wasn't too much later when his Dad and Percy appeared in the kitchen.

A few hours later he had seen his father and brother off to work, he had made a tray of food for Ginny to take up to their mum, and Harry had momentarily disappeared. And suddenly Ron was slightly overcome by sheer exhaustion. He was totally and completely drained. He braced his arms against the sink briefly and hung his head for a moment trying to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly as she came up wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Are you alright?"

"Wha? Oh, yeah. Sure, I'm fine," he said as he patted her clasped hands on his stomach.

"Ron, I thought we were going to be honest with each other when something was up. And you are most assuredly not fine."

He took a deep breath as he turned around, still in her arms and reached his arms around her waist as he faced her.

"Sorry. You're right. I'm not fine. I am just really, really tired. I ended up being up with George all night."

"George? Is he ok?"

"Well, yes and no I suppose. But we talked a lot, and I think he is doing better."

"Did you get in a fight or something? How did you get that cut on your face?"

He laughed to himself as he reached up to touch his cheek which he realized he had never healed from the night before.

"No – it's – that's from - it's a long story. I meant to put some dittany on it, but forgot when I started making breakfast."

"Here, let me do that."

With that she bustled off to find the dittany. Quickly returning, she sat him at the kitchen table and rubbed the dittany across his cheek. She quietly blew on the cut to help minimize the sting. Ron's skin erupted in gooseflesh at the feel of her soft breath. It was such a familiar and yet intimate thing to do, and he found it oddly comforting.

"Are there cuts anywhere else?"

"Actually, yes," he chuckled as he propped his feet up on the kitchen chair.

"Ron! It looks like you tried to walk on glass!"

"I know. But, I think I got the glass out. But I probably should put dittany on the cuts."

She just glanced at him with a look of concern, but she said nothing. And, after checking he'd gotten all of the glass out, she put the ointment on his feet and then came and sat on his lap.

"Thanks. I just need to take a quick shower, and then we can head off to your parents' house."

"No. That is not what is going to happen."

"Hermione, I just need a few minutes. I know we need to go through the papers today to find their original documents and everything."

"Ron. No. You are going to go upstairs and go to bed. You are working yourself into the ground. You are up before dawn to make breakfast for everyone. You are cooking every meal. Then you spend the day fixing up my parents' home, and then you are up all night taking care of George or me or both of us. You can't keep doing this."

"Hermione, its ok. I'm ok. Everyone is struggling right now. I am just a little tired this morning, but I can handle it."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, just stop! You are not some superman!"

"Some what?"

"Ugh. A muggle thing. I am just about over you thinking you are invincible to things while the rest of us are so weak that we are falling apart."

"Are you saying I am falling apart now?"

"I am saying we are all fragile, Ron, and we all do better when someone is taking care of us. But you seem to be the only one who can't admit it right now."

"Well someone has to keep everything going."

"Yes – we can do it together, Ron. You don't have to do this by yourself!"

"Are we fighting about this? Are we really rowing about me being too helpful?"

"Well, that's one way to look at it. But it seems to me that we are arguing about the fact that you are unable to admit that you are hurting and struggling as much as the rest of us."

Ron shook his head in a combination of exhaustion and disbelief at this conversation. Before they were together when they fought one would storm off. But that was not going to work anymore. So, baffled at what else to do, he just grabbed her face and kissed her quite passionately. She seemed surprised for a moment but soon kissed him back.

After regaining her composure she asked, "Are you trying to kiss your way out of an argument, Mr. Weasley?"

"Well, storming off and continuing to fight both seemed like bad choices, so I thought I would give it a try," he said with a slight smirk.

She shook her head with a small laugh.

"Please go upstairs and rest. I can get Harry or Ginny to come with me to my parents' house. And then we will take care of dinner tonight. I am worried about you. You need to take care of yourself. And if you won't, then I will."

Clearly defeated, he just nodded, and she kissed him again.

Once Hermione had left for the day, he crawled into his real bed, the one Hermione had been sleeping in. He was appreciative of the camp bed, but he was so tall that it didn't really fit him, and for some reason he could never enlarge it quite right. And he loved that the pillow smelled like her now. As he pulled the covers up over him, he thought about how it almost felt good to fight with Hermione again. It was like another sliver of normalcy sneaking back in. And ending their fights with a kiss was brilliant. He was going to have to remember that and try it again in the future. As he drifted off to sleep he thought back to his night with George. It was scary as hell finding him on the floor like that. But if he could get him to agree to go to Australia with them, it might be the answer to multiple problems. He was determined to keep his eye on the whole chess board, but it was draining him.

Ron woke up that afternoon and realized he had slept eight hours straight for the first time in months. Probably since his first stay at Shell Cottage when he had left Hermione and Harry before Christmas. He could smell dinner cooking downstairs, and as he rolled over it felt good to know someone else was handling it tonight. He enjoyed making sure the people he loved were taken care of, but if the day had taught him anything it was that he didn't have to do all of it himself.

After enjoying dinner with everyone he grabbed some chocolate biscuits and a tray of supper for George and headed up to talk with his brother. When he opened the bedroom door he was surprised to find George sitting up on his own bed instead of laying down on Fred's bed.

"Brought you some dinner. And the good news is, Harry cooked tonight, so it isn't bacon sandwiches. Since his horrid muggle relatives treated him more or less like a house elf, it turns out he can really cook."

"You look better."

"Thanks. So do you. Hermione fussed at me after breakfast and insisted I go back to bed. The really funny part is she saw that cut on my face that she had given me last night, but she assumed it was from getting in a fight with you or something."

"What?"

"I didn't have the heart to tell her she had done it and didn't really correct her. So – sorry if she gives you a hard time about beating me up or something."

"Great. Just what I need. The scariest most brilliant witch thinking I'm harming her man."

"Maybe you could make it up to her by joining us in Australia?"

"Subtlety is not your strength, Ronniekins"

"Never pretended it was."

"Well. I spent most of the day thinking about your proposition."

"And?"

"Well, I have come to the realization that if I stay here and keep doing what I am doing then I probably won't make it. And as pissed as I am at Fred for having the bollocks to die without me, he'd kick my dead arse if I joined him anytime soon. This morning scared the shite out of me. I am really just lucky Hermione beat the shite out of you in her sleep last night so you could save my sorry arse. So, while chaperoning you in Australia seems like a bit of a daft plan, it seems to be the only plan presenting itself at the moment. So, yes – I think I am in."

"Brilliant," Ron smiled. "I think that is the best news I have heard in a long time."

"What does Hermione think of your choice of chaperone?"

"Um – I haven't actually mentioned it to her yet. She's been so worried about what will happen with her parents – whether she'll be able to find them, reverse the spell, get them to remember her and then forgive her, stuff like that – that I don't think she's really given much thought to getting Mum and Dad on board with the plan."

"Right. You guys have some weird communication issues."

"I am picking that up."

"So when do we head off on this little adventure?"

"Not sure yet. Kingsley was working with the Australian Ministry to try and help locate her parents. I think as soon as we figure out where they are we will organize a portkey and head off."

"Well I have a very busy schedule, but I will try to stay available."

"Appreciate that. But, George?"

"Yeah?"

"No repeats of last night, ok? I mean – Dreamless Sleep is one thing. But not with everything else thrown in, alright? I get that you are in hell. But, we need you. I need you. If you find yourself wanting to mix the potions and the Firewhisky again, please let me know first, ok? Don't make me find you on the kitchen floor."

"Sorted," he said. But seeing Ron's concerned face added, "Really, Ron. I promise. Fred would never let me live it down– or not live it down I suppose - if I couldn't even last a month on my own without him. It was absolutely a stupid mistake and an accident and I promise it won't happen again."

"Good. Thank you. Biscuit?"

"Absolutely. Do think they have chocolate biscuits in Australia?"

"Blimey. I never thought of that. What if they don't? The only time we've left England was that trip to Egypt, and I think Mum packed food for the whole trip!"

"Guess we'll have to bring our own biscuits. Just in case."

"Right. Good thing you're coming to think of these things. Wish we'd had you for last year. We didn't pack any food in that tent, and we lived on bloody mushrooms for months. If only you had been there to dole out the chocolate biscuits it could have been a whole different experience."

George laughed. And Ron realized it was the first time he laughed since Fred had died. Another sliver of normalcy sneaking back in.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The next afternoon Ron and Harry found themselves de-gnoming the garden. While it had never been Ron's favorite chore, the mindless physical labor was a welcome break from managing everyone's feelings. At least for a bit. He laughed to himself when he thought about how he – Mr. Emotional Range of a Teaspoon – had suddenly become this emotional babysitter of sorts. Definitely not a role he had ever pictured for himself. But, he had to admit, he thought he was doing ok at it, which was a pleasant surprise.

Flinging a gnome over the hedge, Harry asked, "When do you think we'll hear from Kingsley about Hermione's parents?"

Yanking his hand back from some chomping little teeth, Ron didn't look up at Harry as he replied, "I am not sure, mate. I had actually thought we would have heard something by now. I mean, how many dentists with those exact names and British accents can there be in Australia?"

"Yeah."

"But, Harry, I wanted to talk with you about the trip." He paused to throw a gnome across the hedge as well. "You know, I'd assumed it would be the four of us going. But, then I realized - we can't even have the four of us go to Hermione's parents' house for the day without leaving Dad or Percy here."

"Huh. I hadn't thought about that."

"And then I thought it could be the three of us, and we could leave Gin here. But, even I know that it would crush her if we all left on another adventure without her. Not to mention that she needs you right now. I mean, I know last year at Hogwarts was just a different disaster than the one we were living, and then losing Fred on top of that. Well, you both need each other right now. I get that."

Harry absorbed Ron's words for a minute and said, "So, you and Hermione off on a romantic getaway to the southern hemisphere, then?"

"Not bloody likely. The only reason Mum and Dad are even remotely ok with her sleeping up in our room is because you are there too. Mum is already in a fragile state. I can't really do anything to push her over the edge right now. But, I do have a solution. To be fair – it is rather a stretch and could backfire in a spectacular fashion, and I haven't actually mentioned it to Hermione yet."

Harry looked up at him intrigued.

"Well, I asked George to come, and he said he would."

"Really? George? I mean – that's great. But, he hasn't even come down the stairs for a meal since the battle, and you think he's up for international travel?"

"Well – no. I am not really sure he is up for it. But, if he is up for anything, I think it would be going to a place where there are no memories to deal with. It will all be new. He won't see Fred around every corner. Folks won't look at him as half of something. He'll just be a weird one-eared ginger from England for a little while. I think something like that might be the only thing that could help him right now."

"You come up with this on your own?"

"Kinda. Why – do you think it will be a disaster?"

"Well, it could be. I mean, you have a grief stricken guy with a pesky habit of outrageous pranks and pyrotechnics, and your new girlfriend is going to bring back the memories of her muggle parents who you will be meeting for the first time as her boyfriend and she isn't exactly in great shape herself. And you throw in some international travel, time in the muggle world and the fact that there are still people trying to kill the two of you. And – well – have you two even been out on a date yet? I mean - what could go wrong?"

"Harry, your confidence in me is truly touching."

"That's what friends are for, right?"

"Hmmm."

"So – who are you going to explain this to first – Hermione? Or your Mum?"

"Hermione I suppose. But, you know, I think you are right about the date thing. Have you taken Ginny anywhere? I mean, it's not like we can just pop over to the Leaky these days without getting mobbed or attacked or something. I definitely don't need pictures of us from our first actual date showing up in the Prophet."

"Well, you forget – Gin and I sort of dated before Voldemort got in the way. So – we haven't been out on a date since we got back together, no. But, then – I am not whisking her off on this bizarre Australian adventure with George in tow either, am I?"

"Bloody hell. This is going to be a disaster, isn't it?" he sighed plopping down in the dirt beside the garden burying his face in his hands.

"Maybe not. I mean, we have had much worse plans than this that turned out ok, right?"

"I suppose."

"Well, what if you take Hermione out to some muggle place on a date?"

"A muggle place? How would I even know where to take her?"

"It doesn't have to be too fancy– knowing Hermione she would probably appreciate the gesture as much as anything. And then you two could have some time to talk about Australia without all of us walking in every few minutes."

"There are a lot of people in this house"

"Don't I know it."

Ron looked up at him, started to comment and stopped himself. "Actually - I am going to not think about what you just said. But, I do think the muggle date idea is a good one."

After they had finished in the garden, Harry headed off to go for a fly with Ginny, and Ron started back up to the house to get cleaned up. He came into the kitchen to find Hermione making tea. As she turned to see him, she giggled a bit.

"What? Why are you laughing at me?" he asked.

"It's just," she blushed, "you have some dirt on your nose. Right there." She smiled as she came up to him and gently wiped his face with her delicate fingers.

He smiled and quietly muttered, "I love you," as he put his arms around her waist.

"I love you too," as she gave him a quick kiss. Then she laughed again, "but you really do need a shower."

"What? You don't find a stinky, sweaty ginger bloke covered in garden dirt and gnome slime to be maddeningly attractive?" he joked.

"Actually, I do find you maddeningly attractive. But I think that maybe, just maybe, I might be even more attracted to you if you didn't have quite as much of the garden smushed into your skin and hair."

"Fair point. You know, it sort of helps block out the sun a bit all smushed over my freckles like that. Anyway - I have a question for you first."

"What?"

"What would you say if I asked you to go out with me this Saturday?"

"Like an actual date?"

"Yes, like an actual, proper date. You and me, and no other Weasleys – or Potters for that matter– around."

"I would say yes," she smiled. "But then I would ask how we could go anywhere and not be trailed by people like Rita Skeeter."

"Don't worry about that, love. I have it all planned."

"You do?" she asked doubtfully.

"Always the tone of surprise with you."

"Ok, ok. I trust you, you maddeningly handsome stinky, dirty bloke. But, I am definitely insisting you shower before our date."

"I think that can be arranged as well. Immediately in fact." And he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek and headed up to shower.

By the time Saturday arrived, Ron was quite pleased with the plan he had cobbled together. He'd had some help from Bill getting his hands on some muggle money. He had also popped over to see Dean, his only other muggle born friend, to get an idea of where to take Hermione in muggle London. Then he had done a quick scouting run to be sure he knew where he was going. He had also found her beaded bag that he knew she would bring along and made sure he tucked in some items he thought she might want while they were out and about.

It was just after lunch on Saturday, which is when he'd said they'd leave on their date. All he'd told her was that they wouldn't be back until after dinner. Watching her come downstairs, he caught his breath for a moment, as sometimes he forgot just how beautiful she was. She was wearing a summer dress that was covered in little flowers, and she had a matching green cardigan. She had her hair down, which he loved, and it looked like she had put on some make up or glamour charms as her lips were all glossy and rose colored. He didn't care what she had done, but she looked brilliant, and he did feel his heart skip a beat knowing she had done it for him. He had on his nicest jeans and a button up shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and had grabbed a jumper for later asking if he could put it in her beaded bag. She smiled and took his jumper, storing it for later. Ginny insisted on taking a picture of them on their first proper date, which he pretended to be annoyed by but was secretly thrilled.

"Now are you _finally_ going to tell me where we are off to?" she asked as they walked to the edge of The Burrow's wards.

"Not yet. You are simply going to have to trust me today," he said. Then he took her hand and they apperated to an alley way.

"Where on earth are we?"

"Well," he said as he took her hand and walked her out onto the main street, "we are actually just outside a museum in muggle London where there is a special exhibit on Jane Austen and all of her books."

He thought his heart would burst when he saw the look on her face. She was actually speechless and was standing there with her jaw open.

"How," she stuttered, "How in the world did you ever find this?"

"Oh, I have my ways," he chuckled. "Now, come on. Come educate me on what is so amazing about Jane Austen. But, be forewarned. This is not our only stop today, so we can't linger on each page of every single one of her books."

She laughed at shot him a dubious look.

"Oh come on," he said rolling his eyes, "it's still me you're out with. I can find a Jane Austen exhibit, but I can't promise to be as enthralled about it as you will be. You should just be thankful we aren't at a Chudley Cannons match."

"I am extremely thankful," she said, "for a lot of reasons." With that she kissed him and dragged him by the hand into the museum bubbling over with excitement.

Ron thought he would be bored out of his mind at a museum about old books. But he found that he was having an incredible time watching her go through the exhibit. It was as if each boring display they went to brought back a little more of the His Hermione. He noticed some of the facial expressions he used to see all of the time at Hogwarts that he realized he hadn't seen in over a year. He gazed at her as she was animatedly explaining to him how this author was ahead of her time and wrote about women's dependence on marriage while never getting married herself. Ron knew he didn't care about some muggle woman from more than a hundred years ago and whether or not she got married, but he was thrilled that the woman in front of him was finding her spark again. They wound their way through the exhibit (who knew there could be this much to say about a woman who only wrote six books?) and were almost at the end when Ron's stomach started to grumble loudly.

"Alright Mr. Weasley," declared Hermione, "you and your stomach have been extremely patient in here. Let's go find you a snack, shall we?"

He beamed back at her and agreed quickly. In short order they found an ice cream vendor and decided to walk through nearby Hyde Park before resting on a bench a while watching people as they strolled by. Eventually they meandered through the gardens. When they came across Speaker's Corner, Ron laughed as he watched these muggles standing on milk crates spouting off about different things. One man was talking about religion, one woman was talking about some sort of rights. Hermione tried to explain the history of it, but he was too busy enjoying the spectacle of it all. They eventually kept walking, and Ron secretly led them towards their next destination. She was more than surprised to find that they were standing in front of a muggle library.

"Wow, Ron. Are you sure you can handle this many books in one day?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could go in and do a bit of research about Australia. You know – maybe use that muggle machine you've mentioned to look at hotels, or find somewhere fun we want to go when we are there."

"Muggle machine? What muggle machine? OH! The computer!" she exclaimed as she quickly dragged him in through the doors. "You are right! I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner. We can look it up on the internet and see some places we could stay – or maybe I can search my parents' new names and see if they just pop up because I guess the Australian Ministry wouldn't know to even do that..."

She kept nattering away about things he didn't understand. But he did understand that she was excited and happy and full of more energy that he had seen in her in months. And that was fantastic. The only thing more brilliant was that he was the one who had figured out how to re-ignite that passion in her.

So, he found himself sitting at a table in a quiet library watching her peck away at a little tray of letters while staring at a big screen. He asked her what she was doing with her right hand, and she said something about cursing a mouse. He couldn't figure out what the heck she was talking about, but thought he ought not to interrupt her again. But, when she started muttering about how she wished she had brought something to write with he grinned.

"Check your bag," he said.

"What?"

"I knew you would want to take notes, so there is a muggle notebook and pen in your beaded bag."

She looked at him amazed for the second time that afternoon. And, then instead of digging into her bag like he expected her to, she got up, came over to him, sat on his lap and gave him a very deep kiss while running her fingers through his hair.

"I've always wanted to kiss you in a library," she whispered into his ear.

He looked at her rather dumfounded, and she smiled as she got up and went back to the computer, leaving Ron in quite an aroused and yet flabbergasted state. He watched her and realized she absolutely would be the death of him. While she was engrossed in whatever it was she was reading on the computer screen, he was engrossed in watching her - how she would crinkle her forehead when she was thinking about what she had read. Or how she would bounce her right knee or chew on her bottom lip when she wasn't finding what she needed. He'd always loved watching her study in the library at Hogwarts. It was almost like you could watch the gears churning in her brain, and she was just so bloody passionate about everything she learned. He used to pick fights with her when they were supposed to be studying just to get her to direct some of that passion at him. He recalled all those hours watching her read in the library, chewing on that bottom lip like she was doing now. Back then all he had wanted to do was sneak off with her into the rows of ancient books and rip her Hogwarts uniform right off of her. And now he learns she had wanted the same thing all along. Idiots. They'd both been complete and utter idiots.

When the librarian announced the library would be closing in a few minutes, he realized it was almost five. Hermione jotted down her last notes from her research, packed up her beaded bag, and they headed to the library door. Leaving the library, they decided to meander through the park before dinner. She nattered away about what she had found on the muggle machine at the library. He asked her again about cursing the mouse, and she tried to explain about the contraption she had used. He wasn't sure he followed, but he knew he would have to bring his dad back here as a birthday present or something.

It was close to six when they left the park, and he walked them the few blocks over to what looked like a dive of a sandwich shop. He could tell Hermione was trying to look nonchalant about it but was secretly worried if it would be an ok place to eat. The front looked like a dingy petrol station with a cash register on the counter and drink machines along the wall. But, he directed her through the back door, and they walked into an incredible courtyard adorned in twinkle lights and candles. The center of the courtyard had a fountain, and all around the stone courtyard were tables, each had drippy candles and cloth tablecloths and wine glasses set for two. He was quite pleased with himself until he looked at Hermione and saw she had a tear coming down her cheek.

"Uh, if this isn't ok we can find another place to eat," he stammered.

"No! It's absolutely perfect!"

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because it is perfect," she whispered.

He would never understand women. The maitre'd came and sat them at a table in the far corner of the courtyard where they were able to sit together and look out over the picture book setting.

"How did you ever find such a place?" she asked.

"Well, I have to confess, I had a little help on this one. I talked to Dean to see if he could recommend anywhere in muggle London, and he said his family had a surprise party here once for his aunt or something and that it was like a hidden gem once you come through to the courtyard. He said it's a place that really only caters to locals – you kind of have to know about it to find it. I came to check it out the other day to be sure – not that I don't trust Dean or anything, but I wanted to see it and be sure I could find it. It seemed like a place we would both like, so I thought we'd give it a go."

"Thank you, Ron. Thank you for putting this whole day together. It has been absolutely amazing," she beamed.

"Well, now we are getting to the eating part, which I know I will probably enjoy even more than the book museum and the library," he laughed.

They chatted about the day as they looked at the menus and placed their order with the waiter. When the waiter brought their drinks Hermione insisted on a toast for their first date.

"To the best first date ever?" she suggested

"Or maybe to the couple who took seven years to realize they were in love with each other?" he countered.

"Or maybe to the one person who knows me better than anyone else?"

"No, no – I've got it. Really -raise your glass," he insisted. "Ready? Here we go... To hopefully the last first date either of us will ever have."

"To our last first dates," she nodded, again with tears in her eyes. They clinked glasses and kissed. She nestled into his arm as they watched the courtyard begin to fill up with other couples out for the evening.

"You know," she finally said, "I really do think you know me better than anyone else in the entire world. Some days I worry you know me better than I know myself."

"Why does that worry you? I am quite confident you know me better than I know myself."

"I don't know. I guess I would have thought that too, but I could not have predicted today at all. You have utterly amazed me."

"Well, if it was to be our last first date ever, I had to make it worthwhile, didn't I?" he teased.

"It worked. It's been fantastic. And it has been so lovely to just be away from everything for a day, hasn't it? Like a little holiday. Our lives are kind of messed up right now, and this was just a really great time-out from all of that."

"Well, yes – our lives are rather bizarre at the moment. But, they are less messed up than they were a few months ago."

"True. I guess it is all about perspective. But, I am still having trouble seeing forward. Are you?"

"Like us long term forward or like what to do in September about Kingsley's offer forward?"

"More about the Kingsley part. I mean – aside from getting to my parents and trying to reverse the spell, I can't really picture much past that. I can picture all of these possibilities where maybe I do or don't reverse it correctly, or they are mad at me and come back to England or maybe don't come back at all, or they want me to move home or never want me to come back. All of those things seem equally likely from where I sit today. And, I don't know how to think forward from there on all of those equally probably trajectories."

"I guess I don't see them all as equally probable."

"Really?"

"Really. I think we are going to go there, and you will reverse the spell with no problem. There will be some unexpected wrinkle because there always is with us, but I think it will end up alright. Then I think they will either be angry but forgive you because they love you or they won't be angry at all. So, the way I see it, they'll come around, it is just a question of giving them time to understand it all."

"I hope you are right."

"Well, what would you do if it is either of those things? If everything goes really well, and they instantly say they aren't angry at you and they are coming back straightaway. Then what? Would you move back in with them for a few weeks before McGonagall pronounces you Head Girl and then off to Hogwarts?"

"I, I don't know. I would hope they come home with me. I guess I really want to fix my relationship with them, but it is pretty broken. Even before I sent them away, they didn't really even know me anymore. I mean – I live in the magical world. Have for years now. My life is inseparable from magic, and they don't remotely understand it. They've never even seen me do a spell because we couldn't ever do magic at home in the summertime."

"Wow – I hadn't really thought about that. They have never seen you do a single spell? Really?"

"Really. It's a shame, really. It seems like there should be a way for the muggle born students to at least show their parents what they have learned so there is some form of understanding about the world they have joined. But, there just isn't with the way it is set up now."

"Sounds like the perfect kind of problem for the brightest witch of our age to solve."

"I guess. Although, I don't really know what I would do to fix it. Especially now with the muggle born students just coming out of hiding – or worse. It is just a really difficult issue, you know?"

"Yes, but that has never been a reason for you not to tackle a hard problem before."

"True. But, I have to say I am a bit tired of tackling all of the problems of the world right now. Aren't you?"

"Yeah, honestly I am. That's partly why I am struggling thinking about Kingsley's offer. All I have ever wanted to do is to be an auror. But I never thought I would do well enough on my NEWTS to have a shot at it. Yet now suddenly here is this chance to do it anyway. But, I feel like I have been on the run for a long time chasing bad guys, so to speak, and I am not sure I could really jump back into that right now."

"So are you thinking about going to back to school?"

"Sorry. Not really, though I am assuming you probably are. I really don't want to be apart from you, but I am just not cut out for school anymore. Especially not after being gone for a year. And I don't think I could just walk through the hall each day and eat breakfast where Fred had died. I just don't think I could do that."

"I understand that. So, what else is there?"

"Well, I am thinking about trying to help George get the shop back up and running. I mean, he hasn't said anything yet. And, I don't think he is ready to go back yet, but it was his and Fred's dream. I think in 20 years if he looks back he will regret walking away from it. Maybe it will give me that chance to take a bit of a break and find the enthusiasm for being an auror in a year or two at the same time as helping him out. What do you think? Could you picture the Head Girl dating a lowly shop clerk?"

"I think that is an amazingly mature plan. And the only part I am not sure about it is the part where you date the Head Girl." He gave her a concerned look, so she quickly explained. "I don't know that I can go back either."

" _WHAT_?! I can't imagine you not finishing your schooling, Hermione. I mean, really – I can't even picture it in my head. Are you sure?"

"Well, no," she said with a twinge of sadness in her voice. "I am not sure of anything. But, I guess I see a lot of it like you do. I can't imagine going back to Hogwarts and walking through the Great Hall each day pretending people I loved didn't die there. I can't imagine chasing little second years around and docking house points for some stupid infraction when there are real problems in the world to solve. I can't imagine sitting in a potions class with Draco Malfoy where my mudblood scar is right there next to his dark mark. I can't imagine trying to put silencing charms around a four poster bed in the girls' dorm so I wouldn't wake everyone screaming with nightmares. And I mostly can't imagine being away from you. But, at the same time, I can't imagine dropping out of school. I can't imagine letting Bellatrix take that from me too. So, no. I have absolutely no idea what I am going to do."

Now it was his turn to get tears in his eyes. He took her hand and held it up to his lips and kissed it. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. I wish I had a way to make it all work. I really, really do."

"I know," she nodded. "I wish you did too." Then she laughed, "You know, there is a muggle phrase everyone uses that goes something like 'I wish I had a magic wand so I could fix it for you,' but I guess that doesn't really apply here, huh?"

"No, I suppose not," he laughed. "If that was all it took, I could have fixed it a long time ago."

"Well, I don't want to ruin this lovely night worrying about it."

"No, but I am not giving up on it either. I mean we didn't see a way to fix the sleeping problem, but when I went to my Dad and talked to him, solutions we hadn't thought about just sort of opened up, didn't they? Hey, maybe if you went and talked to McGonagall, she could think of a fix we haven't considered. Couldn't hurt, could it?"

"Huh. Actually, that is a really good idea. I will send her an owl in the morning and see if I can meet her to talk it through."

"And you know, you should tell her about your ideas for helping the muggle born students ease back in. I bet she has never even thought about those problems. And while I know one of her parents was a muggle, I think she has really always lived in the magical world."

"You are just full of good ideas tonight, aren't you?"

"I'm telling you it's the kissing..."

At that she swatted his arm playfully and their dinner was served.

"So, do you have any more brilliant ideas I need to know about?" she asked as they tucked into their food.

"Actually…I do have an idea I wanted to talk through with you, but you will have to be the judge of its brilliance or stupidity I guess."

"I'm intrigued. Do continue."

"Ok," Ron started. "So, when I initially pictured us going to Australia I was really just thinking about you and me going. But, then when I talked to my Dad after all of the sleeping issues, I realized it really was a problem from my parents' perspective for you and me to go off alone. And, that made me wonder if it would be a problem from your parents' perspective too. So, then I thought that we would just drag Ginny and Harry along too, and we could make a bit of a holiday of it for the four of us. But then I realized that, well, first Mum would not be ok with Ginny jaunting off to Australia, let alone with Harry, and second that the four of us can't even leave Mum and George alone for a day right now, let alone all leave on this major trip halfway 'round the world. And, while it would be sort of a Golden Trio reunion if it was just us and Harry, that doesn't seem very fair to Gin at all. So – then I was thinking…what about George?"

"What about George?" asked Hermione.

"I think he should come with us, and we leave Harry and Ginny here to take care of Mum."

"Really?"

"Really. Look, I know George hasn't exactly come out of his room much in the past few weeks, so you probably haven't talked to him much…"

"Try at all."

"Ok, or at all. But, I have. And, he needs to get out of here for a while. I think he is going mad in his room, but everywhere he goes is another memory of 'FredandGeorge.' The shop, their old flat, The Burrow, Hogwarts, everywhere. Everywhere he goes is a memory. And he said something the other night that really got to me. He said he didn't know how to be George. He only knew how to be FredandGeorge, and they were gone."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I had the same thought. I was impressed he figured that out. And really pretty chuffed that he shared it with me, you know? The other night, well, it wasn't just talking. I found him unconscious on the floor in the kitchen full of Firewhisky and a slew of potions."

" _WHAT_?"

"I know," he cringed. "It was bad. But, I truly believe him when he said it was an accidental overdose instead of him really trying to kill himself. Otherwise I would have dragged him to St. Mungo's myself. But, I just, well, it really hit home for me how hard this is on him. I mean I knew it was awful, but I am not sure I really realized how close we have been to losing him too. And, I want to help him. I still don't know if it will work - if he will figure out how to be just George. But, I figure an adventure to a place 'FredandGeorge' never went together would be a good start. There would be no other memories to fight. No one there would know him. He could just get away for a while, kind of like we have today. Maybe time away from all that is familiar is what he needs. And, at the same time it helps us calm our parents down that we have a chaperone of sorts. And then it also helps Ginny and Harry only have to look after Mum while we are gone 'cuz we will already be looking after George."

Hermione sat in silence for a bit. Ron knew she was thinking it through and going through the arguments for and against in her head, so he just waited for her conclusion.

"You know," she finally said, "it really is a great solution. But, do you really think he is up for it? I don't want to sound fatalist, but –do you think he's leaving just to go somewhere else to kill himself where your Mum wouldn't be the one to find him? I know that sounds brutal, but he is clearly in a really awful place right now. I just want to be sure we aren't doing anything to make it worse for him."

"Yeah, I thought of that too, actually. But, I think he was sort of energized by the idea when I mentioned it to him the other night. The idea of getting away and doing something completely different even if it is only for a little bit. And, well, he mentioned something about how Fred would give him hell if he couldn't last a month on his own. That comment really makes me believe suicide is not his goal. He just doesn't know how to live on his own. And when we spoke about the trip the other night, he even laughed at me a bit."

"I haven't heard him laugh at all."

"I know, I hadn't either. That's why it struck me as such a great sign."

"Ok. I guess we'll go with George then."

"Really? You don't mind?"

"Ron, of course I don't mind. He may not be my brother, but he is my friend. I love him and want him to be ok too. And, if this is the best shot at that, then let's give it a go."

"Brilliant. I can't thank you enough for this."

"You're the ones coming with me half way across the earth to find my parents, I should be thanking you."

"You know bloody well George will take the piss out of us every chance he gets on the trip."

"Language, Ronald. And, yes, I do know that. I have actually met your brother. But, as long as he limits it to giving us a hard time and doesn't try to mess with my parents, I think it will be fine."

"Brilliant."

"Do you two still have passports from your trip to Egypt all those years ago? Otherwise we need to get new ones right away."

"What are passports?"

"Is that just a muggle thing? Huh. It's sort of an identity card that says you are from a certain country and lets you travel between countries."

"Hmm. Sounds like a muggle thing. We definitely didn't have anything when we went to see Bill in Egypt. But would we need one if we take a portkey instead of muggle ways?"

"Good question. I will have to find out form the Ministry. Percy might know actually since he worked in the International Cooperation area for a while. If you need them we should get them straight away. With not knowing how everything will go when we get there, I haven't ruled out traveling home the muggle way with my parents."

"WHAT? In one of those muggle tubes they shoot through the air? Are you mad?"

"Airplanes, Ron. Very safe."

"They don't look safe to me."

"And this from the same man who followed the acromantulas into the Forbidden Forest and rode a thestral he could not see all the way to London."

"Fair point."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist about it just yet. Let's deal with that after we get my parents' memories back and figure out if they even want to come back to England, let alone with me."

"It will be ok, Hermione. I am just sure of it. I am not yet sure quite _how_ it will all be ok, but I really think it will be."

They returned to lighter conversation topics through the rest of dinner. Ron convinced her to share a dessert, of which she took exactly one bite while he scarfed the rest down. Ron paid, but needed help managing the muggle money when it came time to handle the bill. They left arm in arm and strolled down the block out to an alley where they could apperate back to The Burrow. They landed holding hands just outside the orchard, and started to walk back to the house in comfortable, happy silence.

Ron looked at her and asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Hermione just blushed and glanced down to the ground, so he asked again, "Come on, please tell me."

"Actually, I was thinking that it is too bad we share a room with Harry."

Ron stopped, groaned and then engulfed her in his arms sighing, "You're killing me, Hermione."

She smiled knowingly at him, pressing her body more firmly against his, tightening her hold on him. She let her fingers trail along his back as she said, "The feeling is mutual, you know?"

He looked into her eyes and could not believe how lucky he was. Smiling softly, he bent to kiss her slowly and tenderly, and they stood in the moonlight as they each deepened the kiss.

Eventually pulling back, she whispered, "Best first date ever."

Her grinned down at her lovingly. He knew he would do absolutely anything to keep her in his life. Then she kissed him on the cheek, and they walked back to the house.

Even in the dark, she could still see his grin and the pink tips of his blushing ears.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It was Tuesday breakfast when an owl arrived for Hermione. Everyone looked at her with great hopes that it was from Kingsley with news of her parents, but it turned out to be from Professor – now Headmistress - McGonagall inviting her to come to Hogwarts later that afternoon for tea and conversation. Ginny and Harry gave her quizzical looks, while Ron just held her eye contact and gave her an encouraging smile.

As they were cleaning up from breakfast, Ron pulled her aside to see how she was feeling. "Are you ok going to Hogwarts by yourself? Do you want me to come with you?"

"That is very sweet of you, but I think I want to do this myself. I'll just floo directly to her office and back, so I shouldn't have to walk around the whole school. The more I've thought about our conversation, the more I am convinced you are right. There have to be more options than we have come up with. Today I just need to go figure out what they are."

"You'll do great. Between you and McGonagall I am confident you will come with some great ideas."

It was promptly at three that afternoon when Hermione floo'd to what was now the Headmistress' Office at Hogwarts. She looked around the familiar office and smiled as she saw the McGonagall-specific touches that had been added to the formerly masculine space.

"Welcome back, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall said.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione smiled.

"Come, please sit and have some tea, and we can talk through the owl you sent me."

Hermione nodded, and they settled into the comfortable chairs on the far side of the office.

"You always do have the best ginger biscuits, Professor," Hermione said as she took another from the tartan tin.

"Thank you. They have always been my favorite. The Weasley twins were always fond of them as well, if I recall. How is the family doing?"

"I think they are doing as well as can be expected. Mrs. Weasley is doing a bit better. George is still struggling, but I really can't imagine how one could lose a twin and not struggle."

"No, I suppose not. And how are you doing? Kingsley told me about your parents. Have they located them yet?"

"No, not yet. I keep thinking I will hear from him any day now. But, all I can do is wait at this point. Life feels very much still on hold."

"Which is what brings you here."

"Yes. It is," Hermione said as she looked into her tea cup.

Her mind jumped for a minute to her old Divination classes when she would look at tea leaves for some pattern. While she still thought it was rubbish, she almost wished that her tea cup could mysteriously tell her how she could get out of her current predicament. She looked back up and saw the older witch's expectant and concerned eyes. After a steadying breath she started to lay out her problem.

"A year ago I would have had no problem telling you exactly what I wanted and how I intended to get there. But," she hesitated as she looked back to her tea cup. "But, a lot has happened in that time, and I don't think I am the same person anymore. And I definitely am no longer sure about what I want - let alone how to get there."

She looked back at her professor, who just nodded at her to continue.

"There are very few people who know the details I am about to share with you. Ron and Harry obviously know, as does Kingsley. But, even the Weasleys are not fully aware of everything that I am going to say. So, I am only able to share this with you because I know you will hold this in the deepest confidence. While it is not a matter of state security, it is most assuredly something I do not want others to know about."

She glanced nervously at her beloved professor again and saw her nod sadly and knowingly at her to continue. Taking another deep breath, Hermione continued.

"While we were on the mission, we at one point were captured by Greyback and his Snatchers." She involuntarily shuddered at his name. "I threw a stinging jinx at Harry hoping they wouldn't realize who we were. And while they didn't recognize him at that point, they realized enough to take us to Malfoy Manor. When we arrived there, they took our wands, and we thought we would all be put in the dungeon while they debated whether or not to summon Voldemort. But when she realized we had the Sword of Gryffindor, Bellatrix LeStrange separated me out for – well, for what she called questioning and some fun."

The older witch just closed her eyes and took a shuddering deep breath as Hermione continued.

"All I could do was keep thinking about how to protect Harry and Ron, and then Ron – well," at this point tears were in her eyes. "Ron kept screaming for her to take him instead."

Her voice cracked at this. And then the tears fell. McGonagall didn't say a word, but simply handed her an embroidered hanky, put her hand on her knee and waited patiently for the story to continue. Hermione dabbed the soft cotton against her damp cheek and then fidgeted with it in her hands as she began talking again.

"All I could hear was Ron screaming. He was screaming my name and screaming to take him instead. Over and over and over. I was taken up to the main room and well – I was tortured. Cruciatus after cruciatus. I lost count, but Ron said he thought it was more than a dozen. But, I don't know that anyone really knows. In between them I was beaten – by her and by Greyback. The Malfoys all stood there and watched as this happened. I kept staring at Draco willing him to help me, but deep down inside I knew he was as powerless as I was. Bellatrix, she – well, she was insane. Worse than I had ever seen her. She saw we had the sword that she thought was in her vault, and she panicked. Between each crucio or beating she kept saying she would let Greyback 'have his way with me' when she was done. I guess I thought her torture was a better option so I kept trying to hang in there. And I could feel myself wanting to slip away where I couldn't feel the pain anymore, but then I would hear Ron screaming. And, I would come back because he and Harry needed me to give them time. They needed to escape. To live. All of it would have been for naught if Harry hadn't made it. I knew that. We all did. And, I did what I could. My memory at that point becomes very fuzzy. I remember not knowing who I was or who was screaming, but I knew it was important for me to get back to them. And while I don't have any memory after that for a while, I learned later that Dobby the house elf came and helped them escape from the dungeon. There is more to it, but what matters for this discussion is that I am still very much struggling to recover from that night, not to mention everything else that happened over the last year. Many of the wounds healed, but some scars won't ever fade."

At that she lifted up her sleeve to show her professor the word carved into her forearm. McGonagall winced and a single tear came down her face, but she didn't speak.

"Its dark magic with a cursed knife, and it will probably never go away. She slit my neck as well." She took a deep, steadying breath. "But blessedly, Dobby crashed the chandelier over Bellatrix and myself as a diversion, and apparently Ron was able to reach me and got me out of there. I had already lost consciousness at that point, so I don't remember it at all. Harry escaped with Dobby, but Bellatrix threw the knife and killed Dobby as they disapperated."

She cried quietly for a moment, and then wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

"I tell you all of this so you can understand when I tell you I have struggled since then. And I guess that doesn't even take into account everything else that happened on the hunt, at Godric's Hollow, and at Gringotts, let alone the final battle. I am – I am so lost. And hurt. And angry. And scared. And sad. And relieved. And I don't know one minute from the next which I will be. And I am always on alert, like my mind expects a Death Eater to come crashing through the window at any minute. I don't sleep well. I have terrible nightmares. And, while it is embarrassing to say this to you, of all people, Ron is the only one who is able to help me with that. I have woken up the entire Weasley home with my screaming, and no one but him can even wake me from it – not Harry, not Ginny, none of them. Only Ron.

"So, I don't know what to do. I never, ever thought I would be someone to drop out of school. But, I am at a loss. I can't come here and sleep in the girls' dorms and scream every night in terror. I can't do that to myself, and I can't do it to the other girls. I know I have always wanted to be Head Girl, but now I honestly don't care about house points or breaking curfew or keeping the younger years in line. There have been too many other real things that I have seen. And I can't imagine eating breakfast in the Great Hall every morning and knowing it is right where so many people I loved died. I can't pretend that didn't happen. And I can't imagine being in a class with Draco Malfoy, with both of our arms forever marked by the past year. How can I pretend to care about whatever the class is about?

"But," she paused for some deep breaths. "But, I also know that I cannot allow that, that, that evil, demented, psychotic witch to take anymore from me than she has already done. I love learning. I love school. I don't want to lose that. And I think about Dobby. How he saved me – us. Without him, Harry would have died that night. We all probably would have. And without Harry, Voldemort would have lived. Hands down. So it just makes me want to fight for the rights of elves and other magical creatures even more. And then, then I think about the other muggle-born students. I at least had the luxury of fighting it all year. But so many were in hiding – or prison – or worse! Or had their families torn apart. Or then there are those young muggle born children who still don't even know about the Magical World. Who don't understand why they are different. Why they have these powers, or how to use them. And I can't not help them either. But how do I do that? I just don't know, Professor. I really have absolutely no idea how to move forward from here. I can't imagine coming back. And I can't imagine not continuing my studies. And I am really hoping you might be able to help me see some options I can't see on my own, as I have no idea what to do."

And while there were still tears streaming down her face, she suddenly felt calmer. She had laid it all out for the wise witch to see, and she suddenly trusted that there would be a solution.

After a brief pause, the older woman sighed. "My goodness, Ms. Granger. I knew you had suffered greatly over the past year just from seeing how your eyes had changed. But, I truly had no idea what you had been through. And, I for one, thank you. I thank you for your courage and your perseverance, and your quick mind. I won't pretend that I wasn't angry at Albus for forcing the three of you into a trial that was too much for a host of people three times your age. But, I see now he was probably right in doing so. I don't believe the Dark Lord would have been defeated without the sacrifices the three of you made. So, now it is my turn to help you."

The woman sat back thoughtfully for a few moments and then spoke again.

"I am going to propose several things, and I want you to tell me if you don't think they would work, as we can adjust some aspects to make them fit. First, I agree that you should not stop your studies. I believe I know you well enough, Ms. Granger to realize that your mind and spirit would never be at peace without completing your education. That said, I am equally confident I could administer your NEWTS this very minute and you would pass with all Os. However, for students like yourself, it has never just been about the NEWTS, has it?"

Hermione shook her head and smiled at her.

"I have been thinking about several things, and what you have shared has helped cement some of them for me. The students in your year who did attend last year were never able to sit for their NEWTS. Last year's schooling was probably not adequate anyway, and I wouldn't think they were properly prepared as it was. So, I have been considering a condensed course for those who wish to sit for their NEWTS in late October. I might offer eight weeks of classes before the exams to revise and prepare. But I also want to allow students to come back for the entire year who would like to do that. And in your case, I would ask you to consider doing both – to take your NEWTs in October and then consider some additional academic pursuits over the following months that would allow you to focus more in your particular area of interest. It could be a combination of things, such as history and understanding more about the interactions of wizards and other magical creatures such as elves, and possibly some reading and reflecting on how legal statutes have evolved over time and could evolve in the future. Something similar to how muggles read in a subject at university.

"While I can see on your face that it is of interest, I know the living arrangements are still of utmost concern. And unfortunately, you are not the only one in such a position these days. I have heard from multiple students and families this year concerned about similar things. Many, like yourself, struggle with nightmares or anxiety and need familiar surroundings or people to rest, or who need to continue treatment with mind healers and who need to support their families while their loved ones do the same. I am thinking that this year we will trial a day student program. It will be limited in size, as we cannot have every student commute in each day. But I think for students such as yourself, it is only logical to arrive each day by floo, attend to your studies and then return home in the evening– wherever home might be."

Hermione was grinning wildly at this point. "I never even considered that might be an option, professor! That would be amazing!"

"Now, while I also had always imagined you would be Head Girl, you understand that I could not have a Head Girl who was not here all of time, correct?"

"Yes, I do. And, I am really ok with that. As I said, that was a dream I had for many years, and I am honored that you thought of me for it, but I think it is a dream that I have now outgrown. Or maybe just replaced with other dreams."

"Glad to hear it, but just because you aren't Head Girl doesn't mean I won't ask you to be in a leadership role in the school. I have been pondering an idea with regards to our muggle born students, and based on some of your earlier comments it seems you could be the perfect person to help me."

"What is it?"

"Well, especially after last year, I have no idea how any muggle parents would feel ok about sending their children to Hogwarts."

"The funny thing is, professor, the parents probably don't know anything about it all – or at least very little. I know mine didn't – well, they still don't. I am not sure about how the other students feel, but for me, I knew my parents wouldn't understand it at all. So, while I didn't outright lie, I certainly hid or glossed over a lot of information. For example, I told them Dumbledore died, but they assumed it was from a heart attack, and I never corrected them. I knew even if they did know the facts, they still couldn't possibly understand what it all meant. I mean children are whisked away at age 11, and they enter this fantastical world, but they can't share it at all with their parents. Not being able to do magic at home is really a difficult thing. They can't share anything they have learned with their parents. So, in many ways it feels like a secret life. Or maybe just make-believe."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. As you know I am a half-blood, but obviously my muggle-mother was quite aware of magic, and magic was always present in our home."

"That's exactly what Ron said."

"Mr. Weasley always has had a great deal of hidden wisdom."

Hermione snickered at her comment and took another sip of tea.

"You don't have to make any decisions today. But I would hope that you will consider coming back to Hogwarts as a day student. You could pursue some focused areas of study, and I think you could be of great assistance in designing and leading a program to assist the muggle born students transition into our world. I know there will still be challenges in being here every day. The Great Hall will continue to be a place that holds many memories. But I know for me it holds memories tragic and humorous from a collection of years, not just from that one day. Finally, I need to be honest with you about who you might see at Hogwarts next year. You are correct in your assessment that Mr. Malfoy may return. In fact, I suspect he will if he is legally able to do so. And, in many ways, I hope he will as it could be his only chance to have a different life. But I sincerely hope that you will not cease your studies in an attempt to simply avoid him. He was not the source of the evil, but was a pawn used in a much larger game. I am not saying he is without fault, but to let his presence alone dissuade your education would be a great loss. Please think about it."

"I will. I promise."

"Good. And finally, Ms. Granger, I have to ask about how your healing is going. I am assuming you have been treated by the healers from St. Mungos?"

"Um, well, no, professor."

"No? Whatever do you mean?"

"After the battle there were so many who were injured who needed real help, so we just treated our cuts and burns as we had been doing all year with some dittany. Then we went back to The Burrow and were caught up in the marathon of funerals. I don't believe any of us have seen a healer. And, honestly, I can't imagine the three of us showing up at St. Mungos right now. We can't even go to Diagon Ally for fear of being mobbed with people. Having to live out those memories with such an audience, well – I suppose you can appreciate why we haven't done that. And, we seem to be fine."

"Ms. Granger, while I can appreciate your motive, I can assure you that none of you are 'fine.' You just told me you were tortured with the cruciatus curse more times than anyone could count - potentially more than anyone ever has been without losing their sanity or their life. You are scarred with dark magic, and you cannot sleep from the nightmares. And all of that is aside from the fact that you have clearly lost a significant portion of your body weight. And as for Mr. Potter, surviving the killing curse should at least qualify him for a bloody check up! And while I didn't see Mr. Weasley's injuries closely, I suspect that if he was willing to volunteer to be tortured in your place that he did not manage to escape the year unharmed. Not to mention witnessing his brother's death. Or the torture of the woman he loves. Now, before you can argue, I am going to tell you what we are going to do. I will send an individual who is a friend of the Order and can be trusted to be discreet to The Burrow tomorrow morning. She is a healer who is also very familiar with the work of a mind healer, and all three of you are to see her. I cannot order this as your professor as none of you are currently students anyway. But as a member of the Order and as someone who cares deeply for each of you, I do hope you will honor my request."

Hermione simply looked at her professor and suddenly felt tears come to her eyes again. "I...I am not sure I want to know, Professor."

"Oh, Ms. Granger," the older witch sighed as she came and put her arm around her, "you of all people must understand that knowledge is power. And fear of the unknown is much more terrifying than fear of a specific threat. Only once we know what we are dealing with, once we name it, once we understand its strengths and understand its weaknesses - only then are we able to defeat it. Surely this past year has taught you that much?"

She simply nodded.

"May I send her tomorrow? I think it would be best if you saw her before you leave for Australia, would it not?"

"Yes, I suppose it would. Though, I can't promise I can make the boys see her as well."

"Hmph. I may be old, but I am not a fool, Ms. Granger. You and I both know you are probably the only person who can make those two do anything at all."

She laughed at that, and the two settled into some comfortable conversation for a while before Hermione departed for The Burrow.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

To say the boys were less than thrilled with Professor McGonagall's prescribed visit would be an understatement. But McGonagall was sly in her plan and had not only convinced Hermione but sent owls to Ginny and Molly Weasley as well, encouraging them to harass all three into agreeing. And, with all of the formidable witches in their lives teamed up against them, they really had almost no choice but to see the healer.

True to Professor McGonagall's word, Healer Helen Jenkins came across as a woman who could be trusted – not only trusted to keep things confidential, but to also accept the information given to her and to not pry deeper into things they weren't willing to discuss. So, they took turns seeing her one at a time up in Ron's room.

Ron offered to go first, as much to get it over with as to try to talk to the healer before she saw Hermione. As much as he didn't want to see a healer, he was thrilled Hermione was finally getting treated. His exam was brief, and didn't turn up anything he wasn't aware of already. They talked about how to help heal the scars from his splinching, and the old scars from the Ministry years before. She said that at this time they didn't have anything that could make them fade completely, but that there was some new ointment that could help them be less visible. She asked him about his sleeping, but he muttered something about sleeping well when he had the opportunity to do so. She also asked him about anxiety, but he quickly brushed off her inquiry and instead took advantage of the time to share his concerns about Hermione. He told her about Hermione's two scars that wouldn't heal, and asked her to see if there was anything he could do to help them fade as well. He also shared he was concerned about Hermione not being able to sleep and asked about any lingering effects of the cruciatus that he should look out for.

"Mr. Weasley, it seems you may more concerned about her than about yourself."

"Definitely."

"Well, it appears you have been doing a great job caring for her so far. And I promise I will do what I can to help her. But part of caring for her is caring for yourself. Between her, your brother and your mum, I think you have your hands rather full. Please be sure you are taking time to rest and eat properly, or you will be no good to them in the long run."

He simply nodded, and thanked her for the new ointment.

Harry was next, and she was upfront with him. No one had been known to survive the killing curse – twice no less – except for him, so she had no idea of any lingering impacts. But, her exam revealed nothing unexpected either. She did encourage him to visit a mind healer, though he rebuffed her suggestions.

"I appreciate the concern. I really do. But it isn't as if someone else has exactly been through this before who can really help me," he offered.

But she resisted, "no, every person's experience is unique. But healers can absolutely help with grief and issues of survivor's guilt. Those are real struggles, and I do hope you won't minimize them. They are normal reactions to traumatic situations, especially for survivors of war. And while your specific circumstances are unique, the mind's way of processing the emotion and scarring from the trauma is really not. And if you're worried about how a wizard healer would react, I would encourage you to attend a muggle support group. One for war veterans would work well for you. You may be the Chosen One, but you are not the only one. Please remember there are a lot of people – wizards and muggles – who are going through very similar things."

He thanked her politely but didn't seem convinced.

Hermione was last. And she was probably the most nervous of the group. The healer started off by trying to reassure and calm her, "You know, Hermione, multiple people who love you have asked that I take special care to be sure you are alright. They've mentioned being worried about impacts of the curses you received, the scars you received and the nightmares they say you have. But, I would like to know what you would like to get out of our time together today."

"I am not sure," said Hermione quietly. "While part of me wants to know anything that is really wrong, there is another part of me that doesn't want to know if there is something bad that can't be fixed. I guess I am ok thinking I will have a nightmare tonight or even every night this month. But I am not prepared to hear you say that I will have a nightmare every night for the rest of my life and there isn't a thing you can do about it."

"I understand that. No one can predict the future, Hermione. They make discoveries every day of new ways to treat things that they never could before, both in muggle and wizard medicine. There is power in knowing what has happened to you so that you can become in charge of your body and mind again when for a while you had no control. Shall we take a look and see what we can learn? Is there any chance that you are pregnant?"

"No," she said quickly, a blush flushing across her cheeks. "Ron and I haven't, I mean I've never, well – uh – no. There is no chance I am pregnant."

The woman smiled. "I apologize. I didn't mean to pry about you and Ron, but in war women can be harmed in many ways. I was actually trying to understand if you had been sexually assaulted."

"No," Hermione said with a large breath. "Greyback, he – well, Ron was able to rescue me before that could happen."

"I'm glad," she said as she patted Hermione's arm. "Ron sounds like a good man. When was your last period?"

"Oh. I couldn't even tell you. Probably last summer some time? We didn't – well, we didn't have a lot of food over the last year. But I understand that when you lose a lot of weight that your body can stop menstruating for a while, right? I guess I just haven't started back up yet."

"Well, yes, that is one possible explanation. That can happen. Though, there are many reasons for a woman's body to stop menstruating. We just need to rule out any of the troublesome ones. Let me see what's going on, ok?"

Hermione nodded, and the healer proceeded with the exam slowly moving her wand over her body, moving it slowly across her abdomen.

"How much weight have you lost, Hermione?"

"I don't know. I have always been pretty small. I think my weight last summer before everything started was right around 125 lbs. But, I haven't weighed myself since then."

Healer Helen frowned. "Well, you are only 92 pounds now, which is way too small even for someone of your height. I suspect that your stomach shrunk over the past year with that lack of food, so I am assuming it is difficult for you to eat very much at this point. Would you say that is that accurate?"

Hermione just nodded.

"It is really important that you reintroduce your body to healthy eating slowly. Sitting down to Christmas Dinner today would simply make you ill. But you do need to eat and slowly increase the amount you eat every week or so. And you need to make sure that the food you are eating has good nutritional value so you can sneak those calories into your body. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I do," she said quietly. "But, it's just not as easy as it sounds, you know?"

"I do know, Hermione. And it is a process that will take many months."

"So when I am eventually back at my normal weight will my period just start back up?"

"Unfortunately I can't answer that, Hermione. Your body has been through a combination of extreme malnutrition over an extended period of time on top of being cursed with very dark magic. All curses can leave lingering traces like magical scar tissue. But, you didn't just face any curse. From what I understand, you endured at least a dozen crucios. I have never heard of anyone surviving that number of cruicos in such a short period of time without losing their sanity. But, amazingly, you seem to have full control of your mental faculties. But seeing that the medical research at our disposal is blank, it is not easy to know the impact the lingering magical scar tissue has or will have on your reproductive system. And, until you put the weight back on AND maintain a healthy lifestyle for a sustained period of time, we won't be able to know which issue is the root cause."

"Are you telling me I may never be able to have children?" Hermione asked shrilly, her eyes suddenly wide.

"No. That is definitely **_not_** what I am saying today. I am saying that your body is struggling, and to protect itself, the reproductive system has shut down so you can't get pregnant right now, which is ok because you are still a teenager and not trying to have children yet. If you can get your weight up to at least 115 – 120 lbs and maintain that for six months or so, and your periods still don't come back, then we will look at other causes. The good news is that it seems your body had shut down menstruation prior to your torture. This probably helped protect you even more. And if it turns out all of this is from the curses, waiting for a year or two to try and treat it would not cause any additional harm."

Hermione did not respond to the healer's words, but simply stared blankly picking at a loose orange thread from the Chudley Cannons blanket on Ron's bed.

"Hermione, can you look at me for a moment?" Hermione turned her head to face the healer, looked her in the eye, blinked, but said nothing.

"Do not jump to conclusions. Statistically speaking, your lack of menstruation is probably due to your malnutrition. I am not playing it down because I want you to understand how important it is for you to eat properly and to try very hard to gain weight. You need to be eating things with high caloric density and a lot of nutrients. I want you to eat healthy fats especially – like nuts, avocados and fatty fish. If you don't gain the weight, you will not be able to have children – curses or no curses. So, I want you to take it very, very seriously. And, if you do gain the weight and still aren't seeing the results, I want you to tell me – or another healer – so we can work to address that. You are still very young. If by age 21 you are still struggling to have a normal cycle, we can try some procedures to look for and remove the effects of the curses or investigate other causes, but that would be several years down the line. You are too fragile to endure them now, and it would be of no benefit if it all turns out to be from the weight loss. Work on what you can control."

Hermione just kept staring at her.

The healer sighed. "Hermione, Professor McGonagall told me that you are the brightest student she has ever taught. And you and I both know that woman does not exaggerate. She also assured me that if I found something of concern in the exam and that I explained precisely what needed to be done and why it was important that you would probably be my absolute best patient."

Hermione said nothing but looked back down at the orange blanket.

The healer paused and then added hesitantly, "She also told me that if I was concerned about you following any of the orders that I should make sure to tell Ron Weasley what needed to be done, and that he would probably turn the earth on its axis to ensure it happened. Would you say that is true?"

Hermione smiled sadly and nodded.

"Do you have any questions, Hermione?" She just shook her head no.

"We haven't talked about the nightmares or the scars at all," the healer noted. Hermione just looked at her.

"Well, I have an ointment that I would like you to try on your scars. It won't make them disappear, but they should start to fade for now, which can make them easier to hide with glamour charms if you chose to. And there are some studies going on now – like clinical trials in the muggle world – and if you are interested in learning more about some of those, I can send you some literature." Hermione nodded quickly.

"Now I want to talk about your nightmares. Do you want to tell me about them?" Hermione shook her head in a clear "no."

"That is alright. But I really want to encourage you to see a mind healer. There is one in particular I think could be particularly helpful. She is a squib who is a trained muggle psychologist but who sees magical patients as well. Our research on the cruciatus to date indicates that people have nightmares of the memory of the pain and situation when they were cursed, but none of research indicates that the curse itself has lingering impacts on sleep or dreams. So, time, patience and counseling has been proven to be the most effective. While Dreamless Sleep potion can be a temporary solution, if used too long it quickly becomes ineffective and addictive, and it cannot be mixed with alcohol. And as trite as it sounds, time will help. As will being around people who love you and care for you, but you seem to have that under control."

Hermione nodded her head.

"Hermione, I am really concerned that you have stopped talking altogether. Is that something that has happened before?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Should I be concerned? Would you like me to get someone?"

Hermione shook her head no.

"I need you to tell me, Hermione. I can't just leave you in this state. Maye you could tell me how you would like me to handle the people downstairs?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Ok – I can do one of three things. You let me know which one. I can tell them you are sleeping and they can ask you later. I can tell them you are processing and you want to be alone for a while but wanted to tell them yourself. Or I can tell them you are processing things, and I can pull whoever you want aside and explain things to them privately." The woman sat quietly waiting for a response.

Hermione didn't respond and simply looked at her hands in her lap.

"Hermione, I cannot and will not leave here until you say something. Can you please tell me how you would prefer I handle this?"

"Could you talk to Ron and Mrs. Weasley please?" Hermione whispered in a tiny voice, wincing as if the words caused her pain to speak.

"Thank you, Hermione. I can see that was not easy to do. I'll talk to Molly and Ron privately downstairs. I am sure they will come up to see you after that. Why don't you take some time to rest here. But please don't make things worse than they are. You will probably have as many children as you want - gingers from the look of things." Hermione chuckled at that. "But you need to get healthy again if you want to be a mom in the future, ok? First step is gaining the first pound. Just take it one meal at a time. You will get there. If you can manage to kill Voldemort, I think you can handle gaining 30 pounds."

"Thank you," whispered Hermione.

"You are most welcome. May I check beck on you in a few days?"

Hermione nodded. Healer Helen smiled and left the room, and Hermione curled up in a ball on Ron's bed, burrowing deep under his Chudley Cannons blanket and deeply inhaling Ron's comforting scent as she closed her eyes.

The longer Hermione and the healer stayed up in his room the more concerned and agitated Ron became. Ginny kept trying to assure him everything was fine, but they couldn't calm his anxiety. He was trying to control his panic, but his mind was having flash backs to being stuck in the dungeon and Malfoy Manor and unable to get out to help her. He paced back in forth in front of the bottom of the stairwell and had started to pull at his hair when Harry stopped him.

"Ron, this is different. You know that, right? She is up there of her own choice. She can come down when she wants. She is not in danger. You are both ok. This is not that night."

Ginny glanced at him with an odd expression, but said nothing.

Harry reached one arm out and caught Ron's shoulder. "I know it feels similar, but it's not."

"Something's wrong, Harry. I can just feel it. They should have come down by now."

"Ron, we already knew something was wrong. That's why we wanted Hermione to see her. Now maybe we can know how to help. This could be a good thing."

Ron looked back at his best friend and slowly closed his eyes in dread of what could come. And before he could open them again he felt Harry's arms around him. "Come on, mate. Brooding is sort of my thing, yeah? If you need someone to worry about what might me, let me handle that."

Ron chuckled half-heartedly, but he appreciated Harry trying to cheer him up when it was usually the reverse. He was attempting a small smile when he heard the door close upstairs and one pair of footsteps head towards them. And, his fears were confirmed when Healer Helen came down the stairs alone. Ron practically assaulted her on the stairs.

"Where's Hermione? Is she ok? What happened? What's wrong?"

"Yes, Ron. She is ok. She wanted to stay upstairs and rest for a bit. Do you think I could speak with you and your mother privately for a moment?"

Ron closed his eyes briefly as his fear washed over him, then he felt the blood drain from his face as he simply nodded in resignation to whatever he was about to learn.

Ginny quickly said, "I'll fetch Mum and bring her down the kitchen. Ron, why don't you go on in there and make some tea? Harry, help him." Ron simply nodded as Harry and the healer led him into the kitchen. Harry put on the kettle while Ron sat at the kitchen table, his mind swimming. When the kettle whistled, Harry poured three mugs of tea, and was setting them on the table when Molly and Ginny appeared in the kitchen.

Molly was dressed but rumpled from being in bed. She came in and warmly greeted the healer as Ginny and Harry made themselves scarce.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Ron asked as soon as it was only the three of them.

"I am sorry to have scared you, Ron. Hermione was rather upset after our visit, and actually she stopped talking for a while."

"Shite. Not again!"

"Ronald, language," chastised Molly. "Let the woman talk."

"Well, I did get her to talk a little before I left, so don't get too worked up quite yet. After I discussed things with Hermione, she seemed too overwhelmed and upset to try and explain everything herself, so she asked that I speak with the two of you privately first."

Ron just looked at his mum, and then back to the healer, a lump forming quickly in his throat.

"I think you clearly both know the scars and the nightmares have been a struggle, and unfortunately I don't have any new insights to offer on that. I have recommended that she see a mind healer – I will send her the name of a squib woman I work with who is trained in muggle psychology as well. I think seeing her will help work through the memories, and that should help reduce the nightmares eventually, though they may never go away completely."

"Ok, but that isn't really new. So, I don't understand why that upset her to the point of not speaking," Ron said.

"No, you're right. That isn't new, and it's not what she was upset about. It is no secret that Hermione has lost a lot of weight over the past twelve months. In the past year she has lost more than 30 pounds, which is more than 25% of her body weight. That kind of sustained malnutrition can put extreme stress on the body."

"She isn't menstruating," Molly stated, understanding what the healer was trying to explain.

Ron just looked at his mum, not sure if he should be embarrassed or worried. Realizing he was actually both, he just looked down to his hands while his ears turned red and his eyes burned.

"Correct," the healer said. "It's been almost a year since she has had a period, and I would suspect she needs to gain _at least_ 20 to 25 pounds before her body will be strong enough to start again, though I would prefer her to gain more. But, what I said that I think upset Hermione is that the malnutrition might not be the only issue."

"I don't understand," said Molly.

"Well, the lingering effects of the cruciatus can sometimes.…"

"CRUCIATUS?! RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, WHAT HAVE YOU NOT TOLD ME?"

Ron just put his face in his hands. "I am so sorry, Mum. Really, I am. But, you haven't been well. I haven't had a chance to tell you everything. I'm sorry."

Molly just glared at him, one eyebrow up, waiting for him to continue.

"Well," he stammered. "You know we were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, but I may have skimmed over what all happened there." He looked back up and saw the fury of his mother's face, so he quickly looked away and kept talking. "They were taking us to the dungeon, and then…" his voice cracked as he remembered the anguish of the moment.

The fury of his mother's face turned to sadness, but she kept looking at him to continue.

"Then they took her. Mum I tried to get them to take me instead. I _begged_ them to take me. But they took Harry and I away and Hermione….. Well, Mum, it was Bellatrix LeStrange."

Molly gasped.

"How many times, Ronald?"

Ron just shook his head as his burning eyes became damp.

"How many times?"

"Too many to count," he said weekly. "But, it was at least a dozen. And then there was the knife, and she was beaten, and they were going to give her to Greyback….." At that his voice cracked forcing him to stop, scrunch his eyes tight and cover his face with his hands again.

"Oh, Ron," Molly said softly.

"I couldn't take it. God, her screaming, I just – I lost it. But then somehow Dobby appeared and he got us out of the dungeon. Then, well, he crashed a chandelier on top of Bellatrix and Hermione, and I was able to grab her, and we got out. We got out. But by then...she was well, I didn't know if she was alive. I apperated us to Shell Cottage, and she was so limp, I – God – I couldn't even see her breathing. She just hung in my arms. I couldn't keep her safe. I couldn't protect her. I tried, but I just couldn't...and now..." his voice broke as a sob came out. His mum pulled him for an embrace.

"Oh, Ronnie," Molly said as he held him tightly, stroking his hair as she had when he was a little boy. "Ron, love, you got her out. You did keep her safe. You did protect her. And you have been taking such good care of her, of George, of me – of everyone. I am so, so proud of you. And now we have to help her some more. And we will get her the help she needs. Now, Helen, tell us what is going on and what we can do. There is something Hermione clearly wanted us to know," she said strongly, patting Ron's back as he sat back up, wiping his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Yes, Molly, she did. I think she just wants you to know so you can support her without having to explain everything herself. She is going to need to gain weight. A lot of it."

"Well, cooking I can do, that should be easy.…" Molly bustled.

"It's not quite that simple, Molly. When you lose that much of your body weight, your stomach actually shrinks. It's not that she hasn't had any food to eat in these past few weeks, but it is very difficult for her to eat as much as she needs. So, you need to be very encouraging of her eating, but not overbearing. She needs small portions of calorie-dense foods throughout the day– especially foods that are high in healthy fats. Lots of small meals and snacks.

"As I've told Hermione, she can only gain one pound at a time. To take it one meal at a time. Trying to feast every day will only make her stressed and make her sick to her stomach. And this will take a long time, so it is important to not put too much pressure on her at each meal. If you aim to increase her food intake a tiny bit each week it will help. But if you simply stuff her with food she will inevitably throw it up as there isn't space for it in her shrunken stomach."

"Ok – so we get her to eat but don't freak out about it" summarized Ron.

"Right," said the healer. "That's the biggest thing. And then once she has gained the weight back _and_ kept it on for six months, if she still isn't getting her period, then we can look at whether or not there are lingering effects from the cruciatus. There have been documented cases where it can leave something similar to scar tissue which can keep the reproductive organs from working properly. If that's the case, there are some procedures that can be done, but they are somewhat invasive, and frankly, she isn't strong enough for them now. It won't make things any worse to wait a while for that. But, the good news is that she had stopped having periods before the torture, which may have ended up having a protective effect. And, as the weight could very well be the root cause of the problem, we may not have to worry about any of this at all.

"Hermione was upset tonight. Very upset. At first she thought I was saying she couldn't have children at all, and I want to be extremely clear - that is _not_ what I am saying. As I told her, it is just that she can't have children right now - which is ok as she isn't wanting to get pregnant right now anyway since she is only 18, so it isn't an issue. We just have to get her body back in healthy shape so that when she is older and does want to have children, her body will be able to do that. And she needs the support of those who love her to do that. And she clearly loves both of you and needs your support right now."

"You know," Molly said to Ron as she sat up taller. "I had been feeling somewhat guilty about killing that woman instead of disarming her. I don't feel bad anymore." Ron smiled at his mum while the healer's eyes widened, but she tried to hide her shock.

"Mum, I was so glad you killed her. She was an evil, evil, insane witch. I know Hermione feels safer with her gone, and we both have you to thank for that. Azkaban wouldn't have been enough – she already broke out of there. Who's to say it couldn't have happened again? The world is a safer place with Bellatrix dead. And that is thanks to you."

Molly simply nodded and asked the healer, "Is there anything else we need to know?"

"No. Rest, food and the support of those who love her are the most important things. I've encouraged her to connect with the mind healer, but even that is secondary to gaining weight. I promised I would check in on her in a few days to see how she is doing. She was a bit overwhelmed at everything today, and she may think of questions."

"Knowing Hermione, she is going to want to read about it. Could you send some books or articles for her?" Ron asked.

"Absolutely. That's a great idea. I'll send some things over later today. And maybe some nutritional information with sample meal plans as well. Anything else?"

"No, thank you, Helen," Molly said as she stood to escort the healer out. "You have been tremendous today."

"The pleasure is all mine," Healer Helen said as she walked with Molly. "You have all done so much for all of us. I am so glad I can be of some service to you. Please call me any time."

Ron sat at the kitchen table holding his head in his hands. He could hear his mum walk the healer out, and then she gave Harry and Ginny a brief update. He could tell she was trying to protect Hermione's privacy while calming her concerned friends. Then she returned to the kitchen and put on an apron.

"What are you doing, Mum?" Ron asked hesitantly.

"I have been up in my room far too long. Hermione needs my cooking and our love to get better. And I am going to start right now. You take her up some tea and biscuits while I start making some hearty soup for later. I might make some homemade bread while I am at it, I seem to recall she always liked that."

Ron simply stared at her. It was as if some switch had been flipped and his mum was back to herself. He felt tears well up in his eyes briefly but blinked them back. At that, he went up and gave his mum a huge hug.

"Thanks, Mum. It's so good to have you back."

She patted his back, kissed his cheek.

"It's time. I'll never be over it, but it is time for me to come back to the land of the living again. But – Ron, is there anything else I need to know that you might have _skimmed over_ to protect me?"

Ron sighed, nodded and gestured for her to sit back down. Once she was seated next to him, he took a deep breath and told his mum about the time he left Harry and Hermione, but also about coming back. She somehow understood that both had forgiven him, but that he was still struggling to forgive himself. And then he told her about his plan to take George to Australia. He did skim over the disturbing details from night the found George on the floor, but he was able to convince her that a new experience and new memories away from England would be good for him, and she was relieved that they wouldn't be traveling alone.

Once he had his mother's blessing on these two truths he had been unsure how to share with her, he was surprised at how relieved he felt. And he smiled as she shooed him up the stairs to check on Hermione.

He knocked quietly on the door as he entered and wasn't surprised to find Hermione curled up in a ball under his covers. When she didn't look up at him he thought about trying to get her to sit up and have the tea, but decided to go with is gut instead. So he placed the tray on his dresser, slipped off his trainers, and crawled under the covers with her, pulling her tightly to him.

He spooned up behind her and whispered into her ear, "I love you, Hermione. This is just one more bump on the road because things are never simple for us. But we will get through it together. I promise."

With that she turned around to face him. She looked into his ocean blue eyes that were so full of concern for her and whispered, "I love you too."

He kissed her forehead, and then she turned so she was laying on his chest just listening to his heartbeat and his breathing. Then he slowly rubbed her back and stroked her hair until they both fell asleep. Several hours later they awoke tangled up in each other's arms to wonderful smells wafting up from the kitchen.

"Is Harry cooking dinner tonight?" Hermione mumbled.

"No," Ron smiled. "I think it's Mum."

"Really?"

"Well, as I was coming up here, she had an apron on and seemed to have decided that it was her personal mission to feed you back to health. And I know she will make more food than all the house elves that have ever cooked at Hogwarts, and I know it will be overwhelming and may not even be remotely what you need or want. But, it sure was great to see the spark back in her eyes. She actually looked like herself again."

"I'm glad. I mean, I'll need help running interference if she serves me Hagrid sized portions, but I am glad she's found her way back, you know?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm sorry about earlier."

"Why are you apologizing? You have nothing to apologize for. You didn't ask to starve or be tortured, Hermione. Don't apologize. None of this is your fault!"

"Well, that may be true. But, I guess I am apologizing for you forcing you to talk about my periods – or lack of them – with your mother and the healer. I am sure your ears were beet red."

"Ok, yeah, they totally were," he confessed with a chuckle.

She laughed as well, "Well, once again we are doing everything out of order. Talking about whether or not I can have children before we've even talked about sex!"

He felt his ears getting red again but smiled. "Again, I would expect no less from us," he said as he ran his hands softly over her back, letting his fingers trail down to her bum.

"I do worry about it though."

"What, about _sex_?" he asked slightly nervously.

"No, not sex – though I have to say I have been thinking about it," she said with a slight blush as his red ears deepened to a magenta. "What I worry about is whether or not I can have children – your children, if I'm being honest. I don't want you to regret this, you know. I don't want you to regret us. And I know how important family is to you, and I can't imagine you not being a father, and what if I can't give that to you?"

Her voice cracked as she finished, and she bit her bottom lip to avoid crying. Ron sat up and held her face so he was looking directly in her eyes.

"Hermione – please don't. I love you. _You._ I don't love you because I think you can give me babies. I don't love you because you know more information than the professors, even though you do. I don't love you because you are gorgeous, even though you are. I love you because you are you. And my life doesn't make sense without you. The rest of it – kids, no kids…it will all fall into place in the future. I am not going to worry about it now. I'm just not. As long as we are together, it will be ok. And look at my family – Mum has made you and Harry as much her children as the gingers. And Harry adores Teddy. Who gives birth to who is not what's important here."

"I don't deserve you, Ron Weasley."

"Hmm. I was sort of thinking I didn't deserve you."

They leaned in to kiss each other, and then heard Harry coming up the stairs. She giggled as he sighed "too many people in this bloody house." With that, they got up and headed down for the best meal they'd had at The Burrow since the war.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It only took a few days of Molly being back in the kitchen before she declared that it was time to reinstate Sunday suppers at The Burrow for the family, and no one who lived in England was excused. So, that weekend found a full table including Bill, Fleur, Andromeda Tonks and Teddy. Even George came down to dinner, though no one made him talk. He seemed to be content simply sitting in the corner observing everyone else, which was certainly progress.

Dinner had been delicious, and while it wasn't the raucous repasts of the pre-war era, it was a good attempt at a new normal. Hermione had ducked off to the loo right after eating and was coming back down the stairs into the living room when she caught a sight that made her breath catch. Ron was holding baby Teddy who had turned is hair a flaming copper to match. She was struck by how at ease he seemed with an infant in his arms. To the best of her knowledge he hadn't spent much – or any – time around babies before. Ron held the tiny ginger bundle in the crook of his left arms while gently stroking his cheek with his right hand as he talked to Teddy. She couldn't make out quite what he was saying, but she thought he was telling a story about Tonks and Charlie from their school days.

Hermione held her breath as she felt her eye begin to water. She was overcome with emotion, and she was frustrated at the fact she couldn't put her finger on what was causing her reaction. She wasn't sure if it was mourning Tonks and Professor Lupin and grieving for how Teddy would never know his parents. Or it could easily also have been grieving her own parents, and how no one on the earth remembered her as an infant like Teddy was. But, as she tried to swallow that lump of emotion in her throat, she suspected that it was both of those things, but largely overshadowed by the fact that she wanted to see Ron hold _their_ baby like that one day. And she didn't know if that would ever be possible. She took a deep breath and tried to remind herself of what Healer Helen had said – that she was just a teenager and didn't want to be pregnant yet. But, the doubt tugged at her heart, and she ached for what Ron was risking by being with her.

She ducked back up the steps for a moment to regain her composure. Wiping the tears off her face she took a few deep breaths, cast a quick charm to hide that she had been crying and went back downstairs, this time fiercely refusing to look in Ron's direction. Instead she made a beeline for the kitchen where she found Fleur, Mrs. Weasley and Andromeda Tonks. She'd had a brief panic attack the first time she saw Andromeda after the war as she was the spitting image of her insane sister. But, as time went on and she grew to know the woman better, she found that her presence didn't bother her at all. Hermione joined Fleur at the sink, and soon the two young woman insisted that the older witches go visit over tea and let them clean up the kitchen. While the witch used to infuriate her, Hermione had come to appreciate Fleur for the strong and powerful witch that she was.

"I never had a chance to properly thank you, Fleur. I would not have made it after Malfoy Manor without your care and hospitality," said Hermione.

"Oh, Hermione. I am simply so pleased to see you so strong again. We were all so worried. When you arrived that day, well, I was not sure you would make it. And if you hadn't made it, I do not know that Ron would have survived either."

Hermione looked up at the French woman in surprise. "Fleur, I really don't remember very much from our first days there. Maybe you could help fill in some of the blanks in my memory and understanding of everything."

Fleur looked at her softly, and then flicked her wand to be sure their conversation was private. "Absolutely, Hermione. I will help you any way I can. What do you remember – not of the Manor, but of your time at Shell Cottage? Do you remember leaving the Manor and arriving on the beach?"

Hermione sighed and admitted, "I don't really remember much at all. I think I must have been awake before I was conscious – or maybe just couldn't make new memories yet or something. I am not totally clear on how all that works, actually. But, the first memory I have – well – I suspect we had been there at least a few days by then, but I am not sure. I remember sitting at your kitchen table, and you had made soup for everyone, but Griphook was at the table and being terribly rude to you. I don't even know when that was in the scheme of everything. But, obviously by then I was up and eating and I think already going to meetings with the boys and Griphook."

"Goodness, that is your first recollection of that time? I would have thought it would have been before then as you were up and talking with everyone after only a few days. But that supper when I finally insisted I was no longer serving Griphook in his room was over a week after you'd arrived."

"Wow," said Hermione, visibly stunned to realize she was missing a whole week of her life. "More than a week? So strange to have absolutely no memory of that entire time," she muttered.

"Well, the first few days you were mostly asleep. You attended Dobby's funeral that first night, but I had told Ron and Bill that I did not think you were truly conscious at that point."

"So can you walk me through it?"

"It is not too upsetting to do now? If you want to do it another time when we are alone I would understand."

"No, no I don't find the part at your home upsetting. It's what happened before then that I can't get out of my nightmares. But, I wonder if hearing more about how I healed would help me now as well."

"Ok. That makes sense to me as well. Anything that could help you is what I want to do," Fleur said with a kind smile. "I had been in the house when Dobby first brought Luna, Dean and Mr. Ollivander. Bill and I were so scared when we heard someone cross the wards, but then we saw who it was and how weak they were. But Bill still wasn't convinced it was them and hesitated. He demanded Ollivander tell him about his first wand, and only once the old man answered correctly did Bill have me take them into the house. But none of them would say what had happened or where they had been, only that Ron had given the elf directions of where to safely take them. Then after Bill argued more, they eventually told us that you three were in great danger but that you would hopefully arrive soon."

"That must have been so frightening, Fleur," said Hermione.

"Well, yes. It was. But it wasn't nearly as frightening as what came next. We heard two more pops of apparition, but we didn't see anyone, so Bill went out to investigate. Apparently Ron apperated to a different part of the shoreline than Harry, Dobby and Griphook did. Bill found Ron first. I wasn't there, but when Bill told me the story later he broke down completely, Hermione. Probably only one of maybe three times I have ever seen him like that."

Hermione felt tears come to her eyes, but said nothing, simply nodding her head in encouragement for Fleur to continue.

"That night when we were finally alone in bed he finally let it out. He said he had heard a noise that he thought was a wounded animal, but when he got closer he realized it was his baby brother. Ron was holding you limp in his arms as he staggered out of the surf, this horrible wailing coming from him as he did. It looked like you had both landed in the water, and I think he initially worried you would drown or, well, or maybe that he would have lost your body."

Hermione felt her hand cover her mouth at this, not for herself but hurting for how agonizing it must have been for Ron. Fleur handed her a napkin to use as a hankie and continued.

"Apparently Ron was frantic in trying to get you out of the water and wanted to rush you to the house. Bill tried to take you from him, but Ron would have nothing of it. Bill finally convinced him to set you down for a minute on the dry sand to check for a pulse and breath. As Bill checked you were alive, he said Ron was on his knees in agony, pulling at his own hair, clutching at you. I tried to explain to Bill later how awful it is to think you have lost the one soul on the planet that matters to you more than any other. But, well, I think that is something Ron and I both know far too well, and hopefully something you and Bill will hopefully never truly understand."

"Oh Fleur," Hermione said as she reached for her hand. "I am so sorry. For all of it."

Fleur shook her head, "No, Hermione. It is not you who should apologize. I am just sorry Greyback did not die the same day Bellatrix did. But I am still sure that justice will be done eventually. I just hope I get to see it myself. But, I am getting off track here. Back to that night. So, they found a pulse and could see you breathing, so they knew you were still alive. Ron came barreling in through the door with you seemingly lifeless in his arms while I was trying to tend to the others. He took you straight upstairs and placed you on the bed as he yelled for me to bring the potions kit, which I did straightaway. Bill had gone on to search for Harry, but Ron and I were up in the guest room with you. I tried to get him to step out and give you privacy, but he made it explicitly clear he wasn't leaving your side for anything. It wasn't even a yell – more a primal growl I think. Reminded me of Bill when the moon is full. Ron wasn't – well, he definitely wasn't thinking 100% rationally at that point. He didn't seem to understand that I needed him to go fetch you dry clothes from my room and wasn't just trying to get him to leave. But I soon realized it was pointless to argue with him in that state as he wouldn't leave you. So I finally went to get dry clothes for you both from our bedroom, and when I came back the scene I saw was just heartbreaking. He was on his knees by your bedside, clutching your hand and your face, begging you to come back to him. I didn't hear all he was saying. It was clearly not meant for my ears anyway. But, he had bent his head by your ear and kept saying 'Come back, please come back. I am so sorry. I promise I will never leave you again. Please come back.'"

Both ladies needed hankies by then. Hermione just let her silent tears fall, knowing she couldn't pretend to speak yet.

So, Fleur continued, "I asked him to step out while I got your changed out of the wet clothes and tried to assess the damage you had incurred. He said there was no way he was leaving you, but that he would turn around so you would have some privacy. Though, I think he managed to stand still holding your hand with his back turned – as much for him as for you I believe."

Fleur stopped for a moment and her face got paler as she remembered the scene. She sighed and continued, "You were quite gravely injured, Hermione. And, initially it looked even worse than it actually was as the shattered crystals from the chandelier had sliced you all over, causing your chest and face to be simply covered with streaks of blood. I had planned to put you in one of my dressing gowns, but once I saw your skin covered in so many lacerations and bruises and burns, well, unfortunately I knew we'd have to leave your skin bare for a while to apply all of the potions and ointments. But, I covered your breasts with a sheet before I let Ron turn around. I had tried to warn him it would be bad, but... I'm sorry to tell you when he turned around he sort of froze. His face got red with white splotches - you know how all of those Weasley men look when they are overcome with rage. But then all of a sudden he bolted from the room, and I heard him getting sick in the loo before he silenced it. He was in there a few minutes, and he managed to calm himself down and even clean himself up a bit then. While he was gone I applied the dittany and salves to the cuts on your breasts and managed to get your trousers off. Well, your body had lost all control of itself so you had soiled yourself in addition to all of the blood from your torso not to mention the ocean water and wet sand. I didn't want – well, I thought it best for both of you if he didn't have a chance to see that. So, luckily he took long enough that I had you in clean knickers before he came back in."

Hermione gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand appreciatively, but did not interrupt her.

"Just after he returned Bill came in and told us Harry and Griphook had arrived but that Dobby had died. I think it only reiterated to Ron how close he had come to losing you. He sort of staggered with the news, but firmly planted himself by your head and held your hand. As you know, Bill has much more experience handling the impacts of dark magic, so I asked him to stay while I checked you for any lingering curses or delayed hexes, but we did not find anything other than what you had already endured. You had a crushed ankle and multiple broken ribs and the swelling had started. I think the rib fractures were making your breathing more difficult, and I was worried you may have had a punctured lung, but eventually I realized your lungs were alright, which was at least a slight relief at the time. I thought if I could keep your heart and lungs going then we might have time to figure out the rest. Several bruises were in the shape of a boot, so I can only assume that was part of what broke your bones. I went to assemble the skelegrow, pain potions and blood replenishing potions I thought you would need and asked Ron to see to your wounds with dittany. You know, telling the story now I wonder why it didn't occur to me that it might have been inappropriate to leave him with you half dressed like that. But, Merlin, Hermione, he was so tender with you. There was simply no was no chance he would have done anything that would have made you feel uncomfortable. And his adoration and agony were so clear on his face, he was clearly going to be the best person to care for you."

Hermione smiled. "He was. And he is. So, thank you for seeing that and allowing that. I think it was probably what both of us needed at that time."

Fleur nodded, "I thought so as well. I left him with a basin and flannel to clean the wounds and ensure we had all of the glass out of your skin. And after that he applied the dittany, the creams for the bruises and the salves for the burned skin where the crucios went through your skin. I came back after a while and he showed me the neck wound from the knife and the carving on your arm. He was the one who realized the dittany wouldn't heal those, but he bandaged it so your arm wouldn't be the first thing you saw when you woke up. We were both concerned that you still weren't stirring or even responding to pain at that point. _Renavertes_ didn't seem to have any impact, so all we could do was wait for you to respond."

After an hour it was clear to me you wouldn't be waking up for a while. Once the wounds were healed and dittany applied all he could do was sit and stare at you. Ron was getting more despondent as the clock ticked forward, and I think it was almost harder for him once there was nothing he could do to help you or at least keep him busy. So, when Bill came back and asked him to help Harry dig Dobby's grave, we all encouraged him to do it. Luna came up, and we promised to both sit with you while he did that, and Luna assured him if you woke up she would fetch him immediately while I stayed with you."

"But I thought someone said I was at Dobby's funeral?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, you were," Fleur said. "While the boys were digging the grave you started to get restless. You weren't awake or conscious, but it was as if the dark energy needed to leave your body. You started flailing your limbs about, and I was worried if we left you in the bed you would hit the wall and injure yourself further. I wasn't sure what to do, but," Fleur began to blush and laugh. She covered her eyes briefly in embarrassment before she shook her head and said, "Well, you're going to think I'm mad, but um, Luna started speaking about some weird animal or spirit or something else I am rather confident doesn't exist. But, she was adamant that they fed on dark magic and you were reacting to being stuck in the room with them and that you specifically needed to be upright in fresh air to let the imaginary whatevers fly off. And, while it was utterly insane, I couldn't think of a reason to not do it. And, we all wanted to be at the funeral and couldn't leave you. So, Luna and I brought you downstairs. I thought Ron and Harry would each murder me, but you know what? As soon as you were outside and held upright, your body started calming down. Luna simply nodded and said that was what she had anticipated. I still don't get it, but I was just pleased to see you do a little better. You stopped flailing and seemed to breathe much easier."

Hermione was laughing at this point. "You know, the more time I spend with Luna, the more I am convinced she actually knows what she's talking about and it's the rest of us who are mad."

"Could be," laughed Fleur. "So, well, we were outside only for a few minutes for the burial. And just as we finished, Luna declared that the whatever-they-were-called things were gone and that we should get you back in bed. And who was I to argue? Ron insisted on carrying you back up to the bed. He went to kneel beside your bed again, but I intervened. He tried to protest, but I offered him a deal he couldn't refuse. I told him if he went and showered and ate something, then I would set up his bedding on the floor next to your bed so he could watch you all of the time. He knew a good thing when he was offered it, so he quickly went to get cleaned up. Before I went to bed we were able to get you to swallow the skelegrow and other potions, which managed to heal the broken bones before you really woke up."

"But how did I wake up? Clearly I was up and moving about before the point my memory starts."

"The next morning I sat with you for a few minutes while Ron ran to the loo and grabbed some tea and toast to bring up to the room. He brought you some as well hoping you'd wake up. And shortly after he had switched out with me, I heard him yell my name in a panic. When I came in, you were sitting up on the bed with your eyes open, but you didn't seem to be comprehending what was around you."

"Like sleepwalking?"

"Well, no," Fleur said grimly. "You were just blank. I actually wondered if that was as much as you would recover. It was like your body was ok, but nothing was in your body – your mind and spirit were somehow absent. You did basic things swallowing, coughing or sitting up. But, you didn't make eye contact. You didn't speak. You didn't respond to your name. You couldn't follow directions, and you didn't react to things around you. You didn't seem to know what things were – like that a cup held water or that socks went on your feet. Honestly, I think that was the scariest part for Ron. He was terrified but refused to give in to it. But, while Bill and I were thinking that your mind had not survived the torture, Ron was adamant that you were still in there and we needed to help you find your way back.

"He and Bill had more than a few rows about it, honestly. Stubborn Weasley men. You have to understand that Bill has never really lived with Ron when Ron wasn't a little child. I think their relationship has been challenging this past year. They'd always trusted each other, and even had a special fondness for each other, but they still hadn't quite learned to interact as equals. And when Ron stayed with us before Christmas he was so down. When he arrived then he was looking to his big brother for help, but also in some ways he was looking for someone to be the grown up – he wanted nothing more than to serve some appropriate punishment and get back to you and Harry. Of course it wasn't that simple. Bill was both horrified by and proud of Ron, and for the first time they were starting to be more than the idolized big brother and the adored baby boy. But, then Ron left so abrubtly, and then suddenly he is back with an impossible scenario. They were each trying to find their way, and I think they are doing much better now. But, Bill was trying to still be the authority, but it was clear to me from the start that the only one with any authority to say what happened to you was Ron. Even Harry deferred to him, and heaven knows everyone defers to Harry about everything," Fleur laughed.

Hermione chuckled too, but said nothing.

"Anyway, I am off track again. The point is eventually Bill backed off and deferred to Ron's judgement on your care. As much as he was worried his baby brother would be hurt even more if he built up false hope, Bill realized he had to acknowledge Ron was the only one who could handle that. So, Ron stayed at your side. Constantly – day and night for several days. He held your hand, talked to you and just generally soothed you. He sort of helped you through simple things in hope of re-starting your memory I think. I would pop in every hour or so, as I actually was worried he was going to go mad watching you like this. But he kept at it. One time I came in and he was doing your hair and telling you how you hated your curls but he loved them, and he just sort of narrated what he was doing as he plaited it as you usually did to keep the curls out of your eyes. Another time I came in and he was telling you about some adventure you had been on together as little children. And then he started reading to you, which I was a little confused by. I didn't think he liked reading from what Bill had told me. But, he simply said it was what you did and you needed to hear the book."

"Do you know the book?" Hermione asked softly.

"Some history book about Hogwarts I think," she said, causing Hermione to start crying.

"Hermione?"

"Sorry. It's just – I had no idea he'd done all of that. He's so perfect for me sometimes it's scary. _Hogwarts, A History_ is my favorite book, and he knows I used to re-read it to relax when I was worried or upset about something. He was right. It was the perfect thing to do."

Fleur grinned. "Well, I had never heard of the book and thought it was mad. But then sure enough, shortly after he started reading it you started to look at him. I don't know if you understood what he was saying, but you certainly started paying attention. You kept siding up right next to him wherever he went, so he finally sat on your bed and you curled up against him so you could look at the book while he read. I asked if he thought you were reading along, but neither of us saw your eyes move across the page. But sometimes you would reach out to touch the words with your fingers. Almost like it was in braille or something. But it certainly seemed to bring you back to us."

"I don't know whether to be amazed or embarrassed," Hermione said honestly.

"There is no reason to be embarrassed," Fleur insisted. "There is absolutely no logical explanation for the fact that you survived that many crucios, Hermione. And the fact that you not only lived but managed to maintain your brilliant mind is nothing short of a miracle. Magic certainly can't explain it. Somehow those first days after you woke up, your brain needed to reset itself and sort everything back into place somehow. Just seemed like Ron knew your heart and your mind well enough to know how to help you do that. And then with each day he would read to you, tell you stories about yourself and the two of you or you two with Harry. And then you started to talk to him some a little and then some more. After a few days you sort of seemed like yourself, but that was apparently before you were able to start making new memories again. Ron really was amazing with you, Hermione. He clearly knows you so much better than most will ever know their lovers."

"Oh," Hermione said with a blush. "He certainly knows me better than anyone. But, well, we aren't exactly lovers. Well, not yet, I suppose."

"What?! But you were together all year, no?"

"No," laughed Hermione as she shook her head. "We were rather slow to figure everything out. And, well, our first kiss was in the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts."

"No!"

"It's true. And, well, it certainly took us long enough to figure things out, but he has been amazing as I try to get back to my old self again."

"So that whole time at my house you were still not together? I cannot believe it! He was so tender with you! So comfortable in such difficult intimacy! And not even having kissed? Almost incomprehensible! But trying to start dating now, I would think that is hard. It is hard enough to recover from such trauma, but to do so in a house that is full of grief – very hard, no? And, then to try and begin a relationship in the midst of all of that – I think it would be very difficult."

"I hadn't thought of it that way. I suppose that is true. Everyone here is broken in their own way. And I don't know that I can really move forward until I know if my parents are ok. And, well, Ron and I are sort of doing everything backwards. We've only been able to actually get away on a date once."

"Why only once?"

"Well, until a few days ago he was doing all of the cooking. I suppose that now that Molly is doing better we might be able to get out more. But, we are limited in where we can go now anyway. Between the press and the Death Eaters, our one date was actually in Muggle London.

"Really? I can't picture Ron pulling that together. He clearly loves you very much."

"He does. I am lucky, but I guess we will just have to wait a while to be able to actually go on dates despite the fact that we are 'dating!'"

"Hmm. I may have an idea for you. I have to channel my veela blood every now and then you know."

"I am all ears..."

The next morning Ron was coming out of the loo after his shower when he saw Hermione in the hallway.

"Just who I was looking for," she smiled.

"Good morning," he smiled as he kissed her.

"Good morning yourself. I am still not used to this world where you are awake before me each day."

"Strange isn't it? I don't know if it will last, but getting a jump on the day is sort of growing on me, even now that Mum is back to making breakfast."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Can I kidnap you for the day?"

"Huh?"

"I mean I am asking you out on a date today. It is my turn to surprise you."

"Really?"

"Really. I have it all planned. I need to put a few things together, but we can leave just before lunch if you are up for it. We'll be outside some, so bring a jumper."

"Sounds mysterious. And perfect."

A few hours later he and Hermione were walking out of the house to the boundary of the wards so they could apperate to wherever the day would take them. He looked at her for a hint of what was to come, but she just laughed and said, "trust me."

A few minutes later he found that they were at the beach just outside of Shell Cottage.

"Are we visiting Bill and Fleur today?" he asked.

"Not exactly," she smiled. "When I was talking with Fleur yesterday, she offered that you and I could come here any time when we needed to get away from the full house. She and Bill are gone all day 'til at least five, and she said it was shame to have a seaside cottage sit empty on a late spring day when there were people who could use a bit of time away."

Ron just stared at her smiling. She was brilliant. And he was one again thankful for Bill's choice of spouse.

"So, I have a picnic all packed to start. And then," she gave a bit of a wicked smile, "well, we'll just see where the day goes I suppose."

Ron thought to himself that he might enjoy second dates even more that first dates.

They walked hand in hand to a small bluff overlooking the shore. The tall grasses blew in the wind and the seagulls were gliding on the breezes. Ron closed his eyes and simply took in the moment. He could hear the seagulls calling as they rode the sea breezes, and he could hear the rustling of the tall grasses as they blew in the wind, and then he could smell the heather that was blooming somewhere nearby as it wafted between the smells of salt and sea. Hermione pulled out a blanket and a picnic basket from her beaded bag and then produced bacon sandwiches, crisps, apples, pumpkin juice and even some sweets from Honeydukes.

They enjoyed their lunch and Hermione pulled out some books and magazines from her bag. They enjoyed soaking up the sun as she read more about Australia while Ron flipped through Quidditch magazines. Eventually he had his head in her lap and dozed off. When he awoke later she was lazily stroking his hair, and Ron wasn't totally convinced he wasn't dreaming. They decided to go for a short walk down the beach down to an outcrop of rocks. They sat there for a while throwing stones into the ocean. But then Hermione threw a large rock at the same moment a large gust of wind blew, splashing the water from the stone right back at them covering them in salt spray and causing them both to laugh out loud. Ron went to kiss her, but the wind picked up so strongly at that point that Hermione's hair was whipping everywhere, and the sand was even starting to blow.

"Spectacular timing yet again," he chuckled. "Maybe not the right moment for a romantic kiss, huh?" Ron laughed as they both squinted to protect their eyes from the blowing sand.

"Let's duck back into the house for a bit and get out of this wind," said Hermione, taking his hand and starting back toward the cottage. "Fleur said we were welcome to it."

They let themselves in and Hermione headed to the loo to try and detangle her hair. While she was in there, Ron wandered back to the spare bedroom that had housed him the previous winter, and then was home to both of them after the Manor. He sat on the bed and absorbed the silence. It was so strange being back there without the crushing guilt or anguish he had felt the previous two times. The room had a whole different look to it now. Somehow the sunlight streaming in from the window didn't seem to taunt him as it had before. He once again felt part of the good things the world had to offer, and he knew it was all thanks to Hermione. He heard her quietly come into the room.

"Seems different somehow, doesn't it?" she said in a hushed tone.

"That's just what I was thinking," he responded. "I don't remember the sun being this cheery the last few times I was here. It is like everything is lighter somehow."

She came and sat next to him on the bed, and gently brushed his windblown hair away from his eyes.

"Thank you for taking such good care of me. When we were here. Fleur told me yesterday all that you did. I still don't remember that first week, and I asked her yesterday to help fill in some missing pieces. And, well, she told me just how amazing you were. I can never thank you enough, Ron. You were the only one who could have known how to help me find my way back. You took such gentle care of me then. And now. And next in Australia. It's – well – words seem inadequate. But, thank you."

"Oh Hermione, it is a two way street. I couldn't have survived all of this without you. Literally. if you hadn't made it..." he said as his voice started to crack as he shook his head. "Well, you're everything to me, Hermione. I hope you know that."

"She told me how you just knew how to bring me back. I can't imagine how terrifying that must have been for you – to see me just staring blankly back. But, Ron, you knew! You knew me so perfectly. You still do. It's, well, it's – it's everything. I just love you so much."

Ron took a deep breath looking down at his lap. He still had nightmares about that time and how she would look at him with no life or expression at all. He'd been terrified that she was gone in all but her body, and he knew she wouldn't want to live that way. Bill and Fleur had tried to get him to give up, to accept somehow her brilliant mind was gone, but he just couldn't do it. Bill had said it was denial, but he just felt like he would KNOW if Hermione was gone. He was so in tune with her at that point that he was sure if she was gone he would be too. And so he'd kept fighting to find her from behind that empty, vacant stare.

Just thinking of that time made a lump form in his throat. He swallowed slowly trying to rid his mind of that vision of her expressionless face. But, then he looked into her eyes and saw that spark and life that was _his Hermione_. He reached up and tucked a curl behind her ear. Even her hair was full of life now. His breath somehow caught in his throat as he saw the love and desire swirling in the chocolate orbs staring back at him. That perfect, radiant face that once again was full of life and could communicate everything to him without a word. He leaned in to kiss her, meaning to simply convey the love he had for her that his words couldn't express.

For a few moments their lips tenderly caressed each other, Ron's hand gently placed against her soft cheek. He let his fingers graze slowly along her jaw as he leaned away slightly, drinking in the site of his healthy Hermione, lips rosy and swollen from his kiss. But then he caught the look in her eye, and the mood rapidly switched from tender to electric as her tongue darted out to lick her top lip. And before he knew it, they were tumbling together on the bed, lips locked in a desperate kiss. They were each trying to not break their contact while they tried to undo the buttons on the other's shirt, and there were several gasps of protest when one had to lean back to remove a piece of clothing. There really is nothing graceful about trying to quickly take your clothes off in front of the person you want most to impress. But, despite a few missteps and limbs knocking into each other by accident causing them to both flush in embarrassment, jumpers and shirts were thrown to the floor in short order, and soon he was wrestling with the engineering puzzle known as a bra clasp. She giggled a little and went to help him, but he made her laugh even more at his insistence on doing it himself.

"Don't laugh! It's a skill I need to master," he scoffed. She tried to bite back her giggles while he concentrated and then laughed aloud at his proud expression when he finally managed to unhook her bra. He was quickly on top of her, suckling one breast and palming the other while she writhed in pleasure beneath him. Her hands were everywhere, and they were both moaning and sighing to the point he wasn't sure which one was making which noise. He knew his mind was going blank and all of his blood was rushing south. But he was positively stunned when she reached for his belt buckle.

"What are you doing?" he gasped breathlessly.

"Isn't that a bit obvious?" she said as she continued fumbling with his belt.

"Hermione, wait. Wait, what are we doing?" he said through a ragged breath. Half kicking himself he said, "I need to know so I don't go too far. Really – I need a boundary here 'cuz you are pretty close to blowing my mind right now."

She paused and looked at him, still breathing heavily. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, and Ron was having a hard time trying to focus on the words she spoke instead of her heaving bare breasts, still glistening wet from his lips. The fact that she was gently stroking his hardening cock through his trousers was not helping his ability to pay attention to what she was saying.

"I don't have a secret plan, Ron. I am just going on instinct here. I know I am not ready to have sex yet, but I want to show you how much I love you. I want us to feel good, and enjoy each other. Heaven knows we deserve that much, don't you think?"

He stared at her blankly for a second, and then broke into a grin. "Yeah – I think we do."

"Good," she smiled, "now help me with these."

He felt the side of his mouth tip up in a crooked grin as he looked back at her amazed at how confident and forward she seemed. He was incredibly self-conscious of his glow in the dark skin splotched with freckles and ginger hairs. And while he knew the basics of what he was supposed to do to pleasure her from his older brothers, he was terrified he would be rubbish at it. But then she unzipped his trousers and reached the waist band of his pants, and ahis ability to have any coherent thoughts was gone. He seemed to go back and forth between relishing the feel of her delicate hands on his bare arse and trying to get her denims unzipped as well. Soon they were down to her knickers and his tented pants, and the thin layers of cotton were not leaving much left to the imagination.

He stroked his large, calloused, keeper-hands over the triangle of pale pink cotton that was all that still covered her. Cursing unconsciously as he felt the wet fabric between her legs, he moved his hand slightly, causing his fingers to brush unexpectedly against her in a way that had her gasping and rocking her hips up to meet his hand. Ron realized he needed to rally his brain for a minute and try to remember everything his older brothers had told him over the years. He could vaguely hear Charlie's voice in his mind telling him how important it was to make a girl feel wanted and to make her feel amazing before doing anything for his own pleasure. He knew he wanted Hermione to feel just how desired she was, so he gently rolled her over onto her back and ever so gently ran his hands across her bare body. He had no idea what expression was on his face as he was simultaneously as aroused as he ever had been, impatient to have her touch him again, terrified he would be terrible at this and Hermione wouldn't feel any pleasure at all and in disbelief that he got to do any of this with Hermione Fucking Granger.

Trying to shake off his disbelief, he worked his lips slowly down from her mouth to her neck, then onto her collarbone and breasts, then ever so slowly down to her stomach, and finally kissing the top of her knickers. He glanced up at her face and moaned as he saw her laid out on the bed, hair wild across the pillow, breasts in the sunlight with erect nipples still wet from his kisses, eyes closed and squirming in pleasure beneath him.

"Oh, Ron, yes," she whimpered.

"You have to help me, Hermione," Ron whispered as he stroked his hand over her stomach, letting his fingers dance along the waist band of her knickers. "I don't know what to – well – can you show me what to do?"

She opened her eyes and looked straight into his, the depth of trust, lust and love in her gaze took his breath away. Not breaking eye contact, she slowly took his hand that had been above her head, and gently guided it down between her legs, beneath her knickers and started moving it in a circle around one spot.

"Holybuggeringfuck," he gasped, immediately sure he was going to die of pleasure overload.

He was in awe at how warm and wet she was, how smoothly his fingers slid between her folds. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to give in to the physical sensations of the moment. Then her hand fell away, and his still shaking fingers began to experiment with different amounts of pressure and different fingers noting which ones elicited better reactions out of his witch. While he kept up the work between her legs with one hand, he leaned down to her breasts, working her nipples with his tongue and free hand. He realized his hardened cock was rubbing into her thigh but couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed by it. Soon Hermione was tensing rapidly and yelling out his name, and he watched in awe as he realized he had brought her to orgasm on his first try. Feeling quite chuffed, and thanking his lucky stars for having five older brothers, he kissed her eyelids tenderly as she began to recover.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he whispered earnestly as he continued to cover her in gentle kisses.

"Ron, that was amazing," said Hermione once she had regained her breath. He smiled and she kissed him. She intensified the kiss and before he knew it, she had rolled him on his back and was reaching below the waistband of his pants.

"Now you show me, Ron. I want to make you feel as incredible as you just did for me." He looked at her a little sheepishly but took her hand and wrapped it around his shaft. He shuddered at how tiny and soft her hands were when he was used to his own large, calloused hands.

"Am I hurting you?" she asked quickly.

"Far from it," he choked, "you are incredible. You can grip a little tighter, and then just sort of, well, like this," and he showed her how to move up and down. "Oh, God..."

Soon the pleasure jolting through him was too much, and he just fell back against the bed and let her work her magic. He knew he wouldn't last much more, and he tried to enjoy it for as long as possible. Soon he felt a familiar sensation, and he tried to warn her, but before the words were out of his mouth he came, and the two of them were soon slick with his release. Before he could catch his breath and say anything, Hermione stretched across him to grab her wand and cleaned them up with a flick of her wrist.

"That was utterly fantastic," he gasped as she nuzzled up next to him.

"I agree," she sighed as he gently stroked his chest.

They lay there snuggled together for a while before she spoke again, "I wish we could stay here, just the two of us and not go back to the real world."

Her head was tucked into the crook of his neck, and his arm was lazily caressing her lower back.

"I share that wish."

"But this was incredible wasn't it?"

"Hermione, you just gave me some of the best few hours of my entire life."

She blushed as she burrowed into his neck even more. "I think we are going to have to get Bill and Fleur an especially nice thank you present in Australia."

"Absolutely."

"Maybe a kangaroo? Or a koala bear?"

"We are not smuggling an animal back from Australia," she laughed.

"You're brilliant, you know. You could do it. We could just confund it, and shrink it and put it in your beaded bag or something. You've already robbed a bank, and ridden a dragon, what's a little animal smuggling?"

"Uh huh. I think maybe your mind was blown a little too much this afternoon."

"That is highly possible, actually. Maybe we should try it all again and see if it blows my mind back to normal?"

"Trust me when I say I wish we could," she sighed regretfully. "But, we have to head back soon. Bill and Fleur will be back around five, and we definitely need to be dressed before then, but ideally even be back at The Burrow to help your mum with dinner by then."

"Hmmm," he said frowning. "Where is the Hermione from a little bit ago who was trying to get into my pants?"

"I'm right here, trying desperately to ignore the fact that I want to attack you again because I know your brother will be home soon, and I want to be totally not naked by then so we can come back here another day when we have more time."

"Well, I suppose I agree that we should probably try to have you not naked around Bill, or any of my brothers actually. But in general, I think you should ignore any of your logic that is trying to convince you not to attack me again."

She laughed and shimmied out of bed, and she hit him with her shirt as she started to pick up their clothes from where they had landed around the room. He pretended to pout, but was actually just amazed at the sight of Hermione walking so comfortably in front of him in nothing but her knickers. Once she had her top back on, he sighed in resignation and got dressed as well. They put the room back together and made up the bed. They went back outside, and Ron packed up the blanket and picnic basket while Hermione picked a quick bouquet of wild flowers and left a small vase of blooms and a quick note thanking Fleur for letting them use the cottage. They shared one last tender kiss, clasped hands and apperated back to The Burrow.

As they walked back into The Burrow's kitchen they found Harry and Ginny waiting for them. "Hermione – you have an owl from Kingsley!"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Hermione snatched the letter from Ginny's hand and opened it with trembling fingers. She read it and quickly passed it to Ron to read as well.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I am so pleased to finally be able to tell you we have located your parents. I heard from the Australian Ministry this morning, and your parents are alive and well in Sydney, Australia. Apparently the search took longer than expected as they assumed your parents would be working in a dental surgery practice. However, it seems that they have been teaching in a dentistry school in Sydney since they arrived last summer._

 _As we had discussed, I have arranged a portkey for three people to depart for Sydney, Australia. The enclosed portkey (a shoestring) will be for the day after tomorrow to depart at 6 am in the morning. But, as you know Sydney is 11 hours ahead of us, so you should arrive there Wednesday night in time to have dinner and get settled. You will arrive at the Australian Ministry of Magic's Sydney Office, and they have assured me they will take care of you from there. I wish you all the best in reversing the spells and bringing your family home. If I can be of any further assistance, please let me know._

 _Yours,_

 _Kingsley_

Hermione was smiling and crying at the same time. Ron gave her a huge hug, and she just nodded and sniffed, "They are safe. They are really ok. I didn't believe it until just now."

"I told you, Hermione, it is all going to work out. You'll see."

Ginny and Harry were beaming at them. In a flash Hermione shifted into planning mode, and while it was slightly annoying, Ron was thrilled to see more of the old Hermione shining through. She quickly drafted up a schedule of who needed to do what the following day to ensure that everything was ready in time for the portkey.

So, the next morning Ron was off with Bill to change money at the magically rebuilt Gringotts and was then in charge of getting George organized; Percy was arranging all the needed documents; and she and Harry were off to her parents' home to get her passport, which she had hidden in the floorboards of her childhood bedroom. Despite the tight timeframe, she was glad she had time with Harry before their trip.

"It feels so strange to be going off without you, Harry," she confessed as they walked out toward the boundary of The Burrow's wards.

"I know," he nodded. "But while I don't love it, Ron was right to see that I couldn't leave Ginny now, and Ginny can't leave her mum. And it really does seem like George is looking forward to the opportunity to begin to figure things out in a new place."

"Yes, though I worry he has slightly unreasonable expectations on what he can hope to accomplish in a short amount of time. But, I am certainly not going to be the one to dissuade his enthusiasm. At the very least he is coming out of his room."

"I think it's great you agreed to take him with you. Just let Ron handle George, and you handle your parents, and you guys will be fine."

They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and then she asked tentatively, "Do you think they will forgive me?"

Harry paused, glancing up to read Hermione's face. "Yes," he said cautiously. "But, but don't be discouraged if it takes a while. I know Ron thinks they will be fine right away, but Ron has the disadvantage of not growing up in the muggle world. I don't think he can imagine what it must be like to know about the magical world but not understand or trust it. And I haven't dared tell him this, but your parents could forgive you but blame him as some sort of symbol of the rest of the magical world."

"I would never let that happen."

"You would never let it continue – but it could very well happen. You just need to be prepared in case it does."

"What am I going to do without you, Harry? We haven't spent one single day apart in almost a year. It's like you are just a part of my life that I've taken for granted will always be there, and now you won't be."

"I'll always be there when you need me, Hermione. And if you get there and really need me, just send word and I will get a portkey the same day. You are my sister. You are the one person in my whole life who has never left me. I don't mean that as swipe at anyone – especially Ron; you know he's the best friend I could have ever hoped for. And he and I had our moments growing up. But, I just – I dunno - you have _always_ been there and _always_ stood by me. _Always._ And, I can never thank you enough for that. Even when you weren't sure you believed me about something, you were still there standing by me loving me nonetheless. I remember when Dumbledore was trying to explain to me about how my mum's love for me gave me protection. At the time I thought it had to do with her dying for me. But now I wonder – I think that the magic is simply in being loved that unconditionally. That in itself protects a person. It isn't the act of dying, but the willingness to always, always be there no matter the cost. That is unconditional love. And, you have been that for me as much as my mum was. And that magic – in being fiercely loved no matter what – it is powerful whether it is from a mother or a sister, or a brother I hope. It is so courageous to love that unconditionally. And I am so, so grateful, Hermione. I never really got to know my mum, but I suspect that she must have been a lot like you. Or at least I hope so."

"Oh, Harry. Thank you," she sniffed as she went to hug him tightly.

"It's true, Hermione. I know some people probably think our relationship will change now that you and Ron have figured things out and Ginny and I are finally together. But, I don't think so. You will always be my sister. And he is my best mate. I am rooting for you. For you both. But you should know – no matter what happens with your parents, or with Ron, I am here for you. Always and unconditionally."

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too, Hermione."

With a smile she took his hand and they apperated to the backyard of her childhood home. As they began to bring down the wards, Hermione noticed something was wrong.

"Harry," she gasped. "It's the tracer enchantment! Someone has tried to get in!"

After a brief pulse of pure adrenaline, they were able to quickly reinstate the wards and disapperated to The Ministry. There, being Harry Potter, he was able to quickly get Kingsley. The three of them returned to her parents' home where Kinglsey personally escorted them onto the property to get the needed passport, and he used his wand to make a copy of the information from the tracing enchantment. While he was unable to interpret it all immediately, he promised to let them know as soon as he had any information. Then they re-instated the wards and assured the tracer enchantments were once again installed before Kingsley returned to The Ministry.

Harry turned to look at Hermione with concern as she looked at the place Kingsley had just stood before returning to The Ministry.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" he asked softly.

She nodded, causing him to wince in worry that she wasn't able to speak again.

"Should we go find Ron?"

"No, I mean, sure, I mean..." she fumbled. Then she took a deep shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "What I mean," she said in a stronger voice, "is that I am alright. And, I think we should let Ron finish all of his errands and focus on George today. This is handled now, right? We're ok. But, I don't want to hang around here anymore than we need to. Let's go disappear in the muggle world somewhere for lunch. How does that sound?"

"Sounds brilliant to me."

They sent Ron a patronus to let him know about the tracer wards, but they assured him they were ok and were getting lunch before returning to The Burrow. Then they disapperated to Oxford and soon found a takeaway place clearly popular with students. Having each ordered sandwiches and crisps, they headed to find place near the river to eat. Soon they'd claimed a perfect shady spot under a tree and watched as students and tourists punted by on the water.

"It is so strange being here and thinking this could have been our lives. I mean, what is it – only seven or eight years ago this was the exact path my life was on, really," reflected Hermione.

"I know. I mean, well - Oxford wasn't exactly my path," admitted Harry. "But, muggle life certainly was all I knew. Though, my existence at that point was pretty miserable."

"Don't you think you would have made friends in school as you got older?"

"Who knows? The Dursleys were pretty awful, and until Dumbledore got involved I was still sleeping under the stairs."

"Putting aside how angry I still am at him for leaving you with them, I am still horrified none of your primary school teachers ever caught on to what was going on. I mean, _really_? Professional educators who work with children should know at least the basic signs of child abuse and have intervened! The members of that 'family' they left you with are simply vile people."

"Hmm."

"Harry?! What is that supposed to mean? You can't possibly be disagreeing with me on that, are you?!"

"Well, it's just – I've been wondering about something."

She waited for him to continue, but he seemed lost in thought. Eventually she nudged him with her knee. "By all means, please don't leave me in suspense to guess at your theory of how they aren't the most horrid people on the planet, and that includes people I have faced at wand-point quite recently."

"I'm not saying they are wonderful or anything. But, well, do you ever wonder if maybe I made them that way by forcing them to live with a horcrux for all that time?"

She stared at him for a moment once he spoke, a mix of fury he could even think such a thing mixing with aggravation of not thinking of it first herself. He could read her well enough to know she was fuming, so he pretended to be very interested in a duck that was splashing in the water.

Finally, she huffed, "Of all the ridiculous! Harry – first of all, none of this is your fault." He went to say something, but she smacked his head. "Don't even try it," she scolded. "Now, listen here. That psychotic, evil, miserable excuse for a human messed up our lives in many ways, and he alone is responsible for that. So don't even say _you_ made anything happen because a lunatic tried to kill you as an infant and accidentally turned you into a horcrux. And, from what Snape's memories revealed, your Aunt Petunia was not a good person long before your mum ever met your father. Now, maybe she felt left out. And maybe she was jealous. But, she was all those things from when your mum started at Hogwarts! And, that horrid uncle of yours and his ghastly sister that you brilliantly blew up - they were awful already too! Now, all of that aside, did the horcrux somehow leverage the situation to brew it into even more of an awful disaster? I'll give you that it is possible. But, it doesn't seem to fit our other experiences. And, given that you and I are, in all likelihood, two of the world's top three experts on horcruxes right now, I think our experiences are quite relevant. Look at Ron, he's lived with you nearly 24 hours a day for almost seven years. And, while he can be a prat sometimes, he's definitely not an evil git! And you aren't an evil git! But the Durselys, they are certifiably arseholes."

"Ron will be so upset he missed hearing you swear and declare him to not be an evil git all in one breath."

She laughed with a small blush. "Well, yeah, can't let him know all my secrets can I?" she teased. "But, seriously, Harry, they weren't good people. And maybe the horcrux made it a tiny bit worse, but it didn't possess them. It didn't pray on their worst fears and insecurities. That's what horcruxes did to us, right? They needled into our heads and figured out what we were scared of or worried about or unsure of and amplified them. Being grouchy and mean and short tempered were side effects of the worry, not a direct result of the horcrux. Nothing you've told me about Vernon or Dudley Dursely suggests insecurity or self-doubt made worse by a horcrux. They're just mean, loathsome, dreadful people."

"OK. So, take that reasoning farther then, do you think the horcrux messed with Ron's self confidence all of these years? Made him think he was bad at quidditch or couldn't do magic or that he wasn't as good as well, whatever, you know what I mean. Could being best friends with a horcrux have cursed him with all of that misery for all these years?"

She contemplated this for a moment and said, "Well, objectively it's possible that it had an impact. But, he was also from a family not embraced by purebloods who didn't have a lot of money. He had to use a hand me down wand at the beginning, and most importantly, he had five older brothers, two of which were the twins, so they had worked hard at building up his insecurities for eleven years before you ever entered the picture. And, in the summer when he wasn't around you it didn't magically get better like it did when we took off the locket. I was with him at Grimmauld Place that one summer and he was just as insecure then."

"Right – but the locket was still at Grimmauld Place then, so he was really still around a horcrux then too."

"Huh. Yeah. I hadn't thought of that – you are right there. But, the other summers weren't that different. And during the Triwizard Tournament when he was being a prat he obviously didn't get more confident from avoiding you."

"Fair point."

"And I never felt different in the summer either. And, while I didn't sleep right next to you all through school I did spend rather a lot of time with you."

"Well, that's good I suppose. But, thinking about how much Neville blossomed when I was gone really made me wonder what the cost was to the people who spent a lot of time with me over the years."

"You can't go down that spiral of wondering, Harry. There are no answers there – only more things to fret about that we can't change. And when it comes down to it, _it still isn't your fault_. I mean, I feel horrible that my parents are across the world with no knowledge of who they are. And I wonder if they would have been better off if I hadn't been born with magic, but that isn't what happened. I wouldn't have been who I am without it. You wouldn't be you without your past. It is what it is, and all we can do is keep doing our best with what we are given. And honestly, we've both been given tough paths, but I think we've done bang up jobs of doing our best with them."

He didn't say anything as she finished talking, but looked out to scene in front of them and up at the clouds in the sky. She let him ponder it all for a bit and lay back to gaze at the clouds as well. After they had both been watching the clouds for a while, he finally spoke again.

"You know, we were given hard paths, Hermione. Really hard ones. And I have to admit, when I was given the choice to come back or not, I almost didn't come back. It would have been so much simpler to just go – go _on_ – to whatever that was. But, I wanted a chance at a normal life, so I came back. But I am beginning to realize that I don't think that will ever really be possible."

She turned her head to look at him for a minute and eventually said, "I think it was really brave of you to come back, Harry. Maybe even braver than going to the forest to let him take your life." She sighed again. "You know, at Malfoy Manor I almost – well – went _on_ , I suppose. It seemed so peaceful."

"You were that close?"

She nodded. Then she said, "I know my memory of all of it is pretty fuzzy in places. But I do remember that. I...I remember this searing, burning, excruciating pain. God, it hurt so badly. Like nothing I could ever have imagined. And I remember hearing you and Ron yelling. At that point I didn't know who you were – or who I was really. But, I knew you were yelling to help me, and that I needed to hang on for whoever it was. But, I would slip away for a minute to this place where it didn't hurt, and it was light and serene, and I desperately wanted to stay there."

"But you didn't," he added softly.

"But I didn't," she nodded. "And, I don't regret it at all. But, I guess what I am trying to say is that sometimes choosing to live is the harder, braver, more courageous choice. It felt that way to me then. And I think it is the same for you. We both could have released the burden. Could have made everything not our problem anymore. But we chose to endure – for life, for those we love."

"But don't you think that the known feels safer than the unknown. Maybe it wasn't choosing courage as much as choosing familiarity."

"No. I don't. Think about your own life – you chose to leave the Durselys even though it was familiar. Going off with a giant who said he was magical and flew on a motorbike seemed safer than staying. To me that says more about how abusive your aunt and uncle were than about the courage to try something new. So – no – familiar isn't the choice I think you default to. I still think it was courageous to come back."

"Have you regretted coming back – or choosing not go – at any point since then?"

She pondered this but said, "No, not really. Once I was back in my own mind and knew who I was, who you and Ron were and what we were doing, I just knew what I had to do. But, I do think it made taking risks the rest of the time a bit easier. I wasn't quite so terrified of jumping on a dragon because I knew death wouldn't be all that terrible I suppose."

"Pain is harder than death – any kind of pain. And it has been very hard to watch so many people suffer after everything they had to endure because of all of this. I know you say I shouldn't feel guilty, and I am trying, but honestly, Hermione...really – wouldn't you feel responsible if our roles were reversed?"

She gave him a look and promptly tossed her apple core at his head, but his right hand flew up, catching it before it hit him.

"Stupid seeker reflexes," she muttered. "And for your information, no. I wouldn't. I would probably be tempted. _But_ , I would listen to my _very wise_ friends who would help me listen to reason."

"Uh huh," scoffed an unconvinced Harry.

"Would you have let Neville feel responsible if Voldemort had gone after him instead of you? I mean that rubbish prophecy said it could have been either of you, right? And let's just say he was a horcrux and living near him was hard for some reason, wouldn't you have still done it?"

"Probably," he admitted.

"That's my point. It's not about you. It never was. It was always about defeating darkness. Darkness just singled you out really early, so you were involved before you could help it. But even if it hadn't, I believe that your soul – the real Harry Potter - would still have chosen to fight it and ensure that lightness and goodness won in the end."

They sat quietly a while, each lost in their own thoughts.

"I'll worry about you in Australia. I've never had to sit back and watch, you know."

"I know. And there is a tiny sibling part of me that is ready for you to get a taste of your own medicine of having to sit it out. But, mostly I'll worry about you here. You and Ginny need this time. And it would crush her if you left now."

"I know. But I'll still worry."

"And I'll worry when you go off and become an auror, which I am assuming you will do by the way."

Harry made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. "No great surprise, huh? Yeah, I am taking Kinglsey up on his offer. I know you aren't and that Ron hasn't decided, but for me it is the only move that makes sense."

"Aren't you tired?"

"I suppose. But I don't want to go back to school. And I don't want to get a desk job or work at the shop or just live off of inherited money and mope around The Burrow or Grimmauld Place. Voldemort is gone, but his cronies are still out there. This isn't all over for you until your parents are safe. And for me, it isn't all over while his goons are still trying to hurt the people I love – the people I came back for."

Hermione turned on her side and kissed Harry's cheek before laying back in the grass and holding his hand. "I'm glad we were both brave enough to come back," she said quietly. And then she smiled as she felt him squeeze her hand in agreement before they both continued to watch the clouds in the sky.

Later that evening as the family was cleaning up from dinner Kingsley came through the floo. "I apologize for the intrusion everyone," he announced. "But I wanted to be sure you had all of the information before leaving in the morning."

Ron felt Hermione reach for his hand as they waited for Kingsley to continue.

"The tracing enchantment revealed some interesting information. First – it had been two days since they had tried to enter. They were unable to get through the wards, and were not aware that their information was being tracked. Second, we found traces of two known magical signatures. And, while this is concerning, it is extremely helpful to the aurors to know that not only are these two are alive, but that they are working together."

"Who was it?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Fenrir Greyback and Rodolphus Lestrange," Kingsley said quietly.

Ron simultaneously felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach while he also felt Hermione's grip tighten around his hand as the color drained from her face. He quickly slipped his other arm around her waist to support her, helping her to the sofa but not letting go of her. All Ron could think of was how much he wished he had killed Greyback at Hogwarts. He shook his head to clear the memory and try to focus on Kingsley.

"Now, the good news," Kingsley continued, "is that we have absolutely no reason to believe they have any idea you are about to leave the country. Outside of this room and the Weasleyes who aren't here, the only people in England who know about your parents are two trusted aurors and Minerva McGonagall. I made the portkey myself, and it is not registered at the Ministry office. So, I think the absolute best thing for you to do is to continue as planned and head to Australia in the morning."

Ron looked at Hermione. She was pale, but focused on Kingsley and nodding as he spoke.

"Now, Harry, we presume that they are using the Grangers' home as an entry point to find all three of you. And, as you are not leaving the country, you should be extremely cautious anytime you go outside the wards of The Burrow until we know more information."

"Well, naturally, he will simply stay here," Mrs. Weasley cut in.

Ron saw Harry wince at his mother's words and felt for him. But, he decided Harry could handle his mum for a while, as he needed to focus on Hermione.

"Well now, Molly, we don't need to keep him a prisoner per se. But, Harry – well, really all of us, need to exercise caution whenever we are outside of a protected area. I have a trusted auror team working on tracking the two. But, it could take some time."

A bit later when Harry was still downstairs talking to Kingsley, Ron found Hermione sitting up on his bed. He hoped to heaven that she hadn't shut down again, as he had no idea how they would manage going to Australia with her in that state.

"Love? Do you want to talk about it?" he asked in almost a whisper.

She gave him a sad smile. "Every time I think we are safe and all of this nonsense is over, something happens," she said in an almost monotone voice.

"We are safe, love. I will absolutely not let anything happen to you. I promise."

"You can't say that, Ron. You can't know."

"If they couldn't hurt you when they had bloody voldy-moldy behind them, there is no way those two nitwits can get to you now. Those two make Crabbe and Goyle look like Ravenclaws."

Ron noticed Hermione giggle despite herself, which pleased him immensely.

Sobering, she added "But what they lack in brains, they make up in pure evilness, don't you think?"

"Possibly," he conceded. "But, like Kinglsey said, they do not know about Australia. We are safe here. We are absolutely safe leaving the country. Your parents are safe. Even their empty home here in England is safe. It is highly possible that Kingsley's team will have them arrested before we even get back. Let's just work one problem at a time for now, yeah?"

"Ok," she nodded.

Ron smiled, and then said, "This is going to come out wrong. But, I am really impressed with how well you handled all this today."

She crinkled he face in response. "Ugh. I am such a mess these days that not going mute is call for praise, huh?"

"Bugger, I knew it would come out wrong. That is not at all what I meant. What I was trying – and clearly failing – to say was that you were great. You didn't panic. You stayed calm – it was really good. Better than I did, anyway. I just – well – anyway, you're amazing. And you seem to forget that a lot recently, so I just wanted to remind you."

"Thanks," she smiled. "But, you should buckle your seatbelt as I think these next few days could be pretty rough."

"What's a seat belt?"

She giggled and just flopped back on his bed, pulling his pillow over her head to stifle her exasperated laugh, "one of these days I'll learn!"

Ron still wasn't sure what she was talking about, but he was extremely relieved she was laughing.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Before dawn Hermione, Ron and George were in the living room at The Burrow with Molly, Arthur, Ginny and Harry. Molly was going through a motherly list of reminders and shoving wrapped sandwiches for later into their hands. Hermione had her beaded bag full of their luggage and added their food packages from Molly with a smile. Everyone had shared their goodbyes and hugs, but Molly reached out to hug each of them again, lingering on George until he pulled away.

"It's ok Mum. It will be a good trip. I'll be an excellent babysitter and keep these love birds in line."

Ron smacked his brother in the back of the head. Ginny laughed at her brothers, but Harry just smiled, and Hermione noticed his eyes were visibly damp. She caught his gaze, nodded her assurance and gave him a knowing smile, trying not to tear up herself.

"I hope you each find what you need there," said Arthur fondly. "We love each of you so very much. Be safe, and take care of each other."

Ron gave his dad a nod, and then turned and gave a quick smile to Harry.

"OK, just a few seconds, everybody grab ahold of the shoestring," Hermione said.

"Bye Mum, bye Dad. We love you," Ron said as they felt the portkey pull them away.

It was the longest portkey journey any of them had ever experienced. They kept tumbling and swirling, and even though Ron was rather used to this form of travel his stomach was swirling after a few minutes. As they came towards their destination he noticed both Hermione and George were looking quite green. He knew his head was still spinning, but he managed to land on his feet. George hit the floor with a thud, but Ron was able to catch Hermione before she tumbled to the ground.

"Welcome to Australia, mates!" proclaimed a chipper gentleman as he helped George up. "I'm Michael Southern, and I am with the Minister's office. We are so glad you are here. You must be Ms. Granger?" he said reaching out to shake Hermione's hand.

"Yes, I'm Hermione. Nice to meet you, Mr. Southern," Hermione managed to say as she tried to get the room to stop swirling in her head.

"A few deep breaths will help with the vertigo, I promise," he quipped happily. "And which one of you is Ronald Weasley?"

"That'd be me," said Ron shaking his hand. "I'm Ron, and this is my brother George."

"Wonderful to meet all of you. We are so grateful for everything you have done for the wizarding world."

"Oh my," said Hermione, "I didn't think the news from England would have traveled down here as well."

"Are you kidding?" said Michael. "You are bloody heroes. Voldemort may have been focused on England, but his followers were all over the world pushing that blood supremacy nonsense. Thanks to you, we've been able to round up most of them."

"Most of them?" Ron asked suddenly concerned. "Do we need to be worried about our safety? Are there Australian Death Eaters down here? We are not exactly the most popular people with that crowd."

"There were Death Eaters, but nearly all of them have been arrested. The few who remain on the run are too busy trying to save their own hides to bother trying to take you down. No one has any idea you are here, and even if they did they probably wouldn't recognize you without Mr. Potter. That said, the aurors around here are always muttering about 'constant vigilance,' so we will have aurors assigned to keep you safe as long you as you are here in country."

"Right. Constant vigilance," frowned Ron.

"Well, alright then," said Michael, "let's get you all settled, shall we? If you will just follow me, we will take you in a ministry car over to a hotel nearby where we have you set up for your stay. Everything is taken care of, so anything you need just bill it to the room."

"Oh you don't need to do that, I can..." started Hermione.

"We wouldn't dream of it," cut in Michael. "We are so happy to be able to do this as a small token of our gratitude for all that you have done. Really, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, we are so very grateful."

"Ok," nodded Hermione, "then, I – we – appreciate your hospitality. I know it is evening here now, but are we to come back here tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes. The ministry car will come back and fetch you from the hotel at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning, and you can meet with the auror team who tracked down your parents. I am afraid I have had no involvement in that, so I can't answer any questions you might have. But I am sure they will be able to take care of you straight away in the morning."

"Excellent. Thank you so much," smiled Hermione.

"You are most welcome."

They made their way into the hotel and checked in. As it was a muggle hotel, the Weasley boys hung back and let Hermione get them organized. The woman at the hotel desk gave Hermione 3 plastic squares and then asked where their luggage was. Hermione said there was a bit of a mix up with the plane and that it should hopefully arrive in the next few days. The boys then followed her to the lifts, where they headed up to the top floor.

"What are those plastic squares?" George asked.

"These are the room keys."

"They don't look like any key I have ever seen," replied Ron.

"Well, there is a little electronic code inside that links to our room. You slip it in a little slot in the door, the light turns green, and then it unlocks. But, in my experience, it usually doesn't work the first time and gives you this annoying red light, and you have to try it a few times before it works."

They got to the room, and Ron insisted on trying the key. He was quite chuffed when the light turned green on the first time.

"What do you know? I am better at muggle magic than Hermione," he teased.

They opened the door and were amazed at the room. Ron realized he didn't really know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't a two bedroom apartment.

"Holy shite!" exclaimed George. "I need to volunteer to chaperone you two more often. This is incredible!"

"Do you think there was some sort of mistake in the room? They can't possibly have meant to give us this," worried Hermione.

"Well, my lady, based on the card on this ridiculously large gift basket that is addressed to you two, I would assume we are in the right place," laughed George. "Blimey, look at this loot!"

"Wow," Ron said. "I had no idea we would get this sort of reception. I just thought they would give us some suggestions of which hotels to try and we would be on our way. This really is incredible."

Hermione was wandering the rooms at this point, still a little overwhelmed at it all. "Ok. Well, I guess we can unpack and then figure out where to get some food. Do you guys want to go back to the restaurant in the lobby, find somewhere else nearby or just order up some room service?"

"What's room service?" the boys chimed together.

"Huh. Didn't realize that was a muggle thing. You order from a menu that is up in your room, and then they bring all of the food up here on a tray. When you are done you put the dishes outside the door and the housekeeper comes and cleans it all up."

"Like a nice restaurant but you get to be in your pajamas?" Ron asked.

"Wicked," said George. "I vote for that."

Hermione looked at Ron and saw his childlike grin and realized they would most definitely be ordering room service.

"Oh, alright. I suppose you two want me to show you how to work the tele next, right?" She laughed as she thought it was like going on vacation with two little boys. But she was so grateful they were there with her that she was happy to let them have massive cheeseburgers and ice cream sundaes delivered to the room. She tried to down some soup and some fruit salad, but between the travel and her nerves about seeing her parents, she wasn't able to get much down. She could tell Ron noticed her lack of appetite but was trying not to say anything.

"I'm trying" she said simply when she caught his glance at one point.

"And I appreciate it," he answered patiently.

When they were finished George said, "I know it's only like lunch time at home, but I am knackered. I've talked to more people in the last few hours than I have in weeks. I am going to bed. You two lovebirds remember to use silencing charms, eh?"

Ron threw a couch pillow at him, but missed as George ducked into the adjoining bedroom.

"Sorry about that."

"No need to be sorry. I knew we what we were getting into bringing him," she laughed. "And it is almost refreshing seeing him pick at you again. But he's right. I am tired too. I don't know how well I'll actually sleep as I am so ridiculously nervous, but let's clean up this mess and turn in as well."

"You go get changed. I'll clean up and then I'm going to set up some protective wards. I know its overkill, but I think I'll sleep easier if I do."

"I think you are wonderful man, Ron Weasley," she said as she kissed him and headed off to change.

Ron finished up in the living room, but stalled a little to give Hermione some time to get settled. While he was thrilled to have a bedroom to themselves, he knew that this was not a night to pick up where they had left off at Bill and Fleur's. She needed rest and reassurance tonight, not romance.

As he entered the bedroom he saw Hermione in a tight vest and little pajama bottoms that hung low on her hips sitting on the one king sized bed. Rest and reassurance he reminded himself. Not romance. Rest and reassurance. Not romance. He grabbed his things and walked to the restroom.

"Are you going to change?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah – and I am going to take a shower too," he replied. A long, cold one, he thought.

After his helpful shower he threw on his pajamas, walked back into the bedroom and smiled when he found Hermione curled up in bed reading. As he crawled into bed she closed up her book and placed it on the nightstand.

"How ya doing?" Ron asked.

"Nervous," she admitted. "I keep thinking of everything that could go wrong tomorrow."

"Well, I think you have nothing to worry about. I really do. We don't even know for sure we will see them tomorrow. We might just get a run down of information from the ministry and then meet them the next day. But whatever is in store, I know a good night's sleep is just about the only thing you can do to prepare for it."

"I wish I shared your confidence."

"Maybe I'll just be confident enough for both of us tonight."

"Maybe," she said as she curled into him. "Is it awful I am not in the mood to snog?"

"No," he laughed. "I know I am a bloke, but I don't assume that we will suddenly snog every time we are alone somewhere. I hope I'm not that bad."

"No, of course you aren't. I'm sorry – I shouldn't have said it that way. I think I meant I kind of wish I was in the mood. Maybe it would help me relax or something, but I am just so scared and distracted."

"Well, I have a better plan. Here, turn over on your stomach."

"Why?"

"Just trust me, ok?"

"OK," she said doubtfully as she rolled over.

"Well, I just might have other ways of making you relax," he laughed. "Here, let me…." At that he pulled her hair over to the side and began to massage her neck and shoulders. He worked the knots in her arms and rubbed her back. She was relaxing like putty in his hands.

"Ron," she sighed, "could you just do that forever?"

Ron chuckled. "I'll see what I can do."

He kept massaging her back, and eventually he thought she had fallen asleep. So he gently kissed the back of her shoulder and curled up next to her.

"Sweet dreams, my love," he whispered as he fell asleep as well.

Ron was sitting in the Australian Ministry of Magic conference room with his arm around Hermione, trying to rub her back to help calm her nerves as she fidgeted in her chair. George sat quietly on the other side of Ron as they waited for someone to come in and tell them something.

After what felt like an hour but was probably only a few minutes, three people came into the room. Hermione looked up at them instantly with a pleading look on her face.

"G'day," started one of the Australian wizards. "My name is Charlie Hall. I am an auror here with the ministry and have been in charge of the search for your parents, Ms. Granger."

"Good to meet you," she replied. "Thank you so much for finding them. I really can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Uh, you are very welcome."

"Will I be able to see them today?"

"Well, let's all sit and chat a bit and let me catch you up on some things."

Ron stiffened at this comment, and he sensed something was wrong. He didn't want to alarm Hermione, who hadn't seemed to pick up on the same thing, so he simply sat up straight in his chair and cleared his throat.

"Nice to meet you Auror Hall, I am Ron Weasley. This is my brother, George. We appreciate your help on this. As I sure you can understand, Hermione is quite anxious to know where her parents are and to know when she will be able to see them and reverse the spells."

"I understand that Mr. Weasley, and I appreciate your desire to cut straight to the chase, so to speak. Your parents, Ms. Granger, are alive and well. They were harder to track down than we had anticipated as they were not working in a Dental Surgery clinic as we thought but were instead teaching in a local university program here in Sydney."

"That is great to hear they are here in the city, will we be able to see them today?"

"Well, this is where we have a slight issue," he stated, and immediately Hermione froze.

"They are fine, and if you insist, we can absolutely see them today. However, we were not aware that the university they are teaching at just closed for end of term holidays, and apparently your parents – the Wilkins – have left on a two week holiday."

"A holiday?"

"Yes, a holiday. From what we have learned this morning, it apparently is a vacation they have been saving and planning for since they arrived last summer. They have actually left the country and gone to New Zealand."

"We came all the way to Australia and they aren't even on this continent?" blurted Hermione.

"I am so sorry about this," said the Australian witch. "First, let me introduce myself. I am Melissa Keen, and I work in the Muggle Relations department here. We worked with the aurors to find your parents, and as soon as we had located them, we let Minister Shacklebolt know in England so you could come and collect them straight away. We have had an auror tailing them since we found them earlier this week. That is how we discovered they drove to the airport yesterday and boarded a plane for Auckland. It was after you had already departed England, so we couldn't get in touch with you in time."

"Naturally we contacted the New Zealand Ministry of Magic, and they were sure to assign aurors to tail your parents as soon as they arrived. And, they are unaware of their actual identies – only that they are an important muggle couple the Australian Ministry needs to keep tabs on. So, we know exactly where they are, and they are in no danger. They seem to be having a fantastic time," added Auror Hall.

Hermione simply stared at them, so the Australian witch continued.

"So that leaves us with several options. First, we can work with the New Zealand ministry to intercept them, confund them, transport them back to Australia, and then have you reverse the spells. However, I would be concerned about the risks of modifying the memory spells after they have had to be confunded so much that they could be transported across international borders. A second option is to have you travel to New Zealand and reverse the spells there, and then have all of you travel back to Australia together once that has occurred, and then they can decide what to do next. But, again I am nervous about reversing the memory spells in a setting or location where nothing is familiar to either the Grangers or the Wilkins. And, if they are not – shall I say – immediately forgiving of the situation, it could cause some significant distress for all involved."

Hermione nodded with tears in her eyes. Ron was getting frustrated so blurted, "So if neither of those sound like winning plans, what would you suggest that we do?"

"Well, actually the third option would be that we simply wait for them to come home from their holiday. I know you want to get your parents back to themselves as quickly as possible, but allowing them to enjoy their holiday and come back to their current home on their own schedule might be the best plan. They would be relaxed, in the home they are familiar with, and no international border crossing or additional memory adjustments would be necessary. In the meantime the ministry here would take care of all of your expenses and perhaps the three of you could enjoy a holiday of your own. You could stay here in Sydney, tour around both the muggle and wizarding sites or just relax some – as I understand you've had rather a full year. We are happy to help with whichever plan you wish to pursue. These are, after all, your parents. Just let us know how you would prefer to proceed."

Hermione just stared at them rather blankly. Ron was worried she was shutting down again. So he thought he would take charge of the situation before it spiraled out of control, "Would you mind if we could talk privately for a few moments to talk through the options?"

"Of course," she replied. "We will all just step out into the hall and let your talk amongst yourselves. Just let us know if you have any questions or when you have determined how to move forward from here. And, again, I do apologize for this problem. It has caught all of us rather by surprise."

"Right, thanks," nodded Ron as the Australians left.

"Crikey," George said once they were alone, "I didn't see that coming."

Ron gave his brother a face which he didn't see, and then turned to the quiet witch next to him. "Hermione, are you alright?"

She nodded but had tears in her eyes. "I just really thought I would see them today. It feels like someone keeps moving the finish line further away every time we get close, you know?"

"I know. I am so sorry. And if you think its best, we can go to New Zealand right now and find them. But…"

"But you and I both know that's not what is best for them. It's only what's best for me."

"This is your decision, love."

She sighed and sat quietly for a few minutes. "I suppose there really isn't a choice at all, is there? I need to let them enjoy their holiday. That is what is best for them, and I love them so much. I really do want what is best for them – that's why I sent them here in the first place. So, I guess we have time to kill. I am so sorry – if you guys want to go back to England I completely understand."

"For a brilliant witch you sure are a daft bird," cut in George. "I mean, I agree that letting them finish their holiday is the right move, but no one is going back to England until we find your parents."

Ron nodded in agreement as George continued.

"Let's face it. I am the world's poorest choice of a chaperone. So, I know you guys are throwing me a lifeline being here. And I appreciate that more than you could possibly understand. There is nothing for me in England to go back to right now. Let's stay here. We are in a hotel room nicer than our house. They are paying for everything. All we are missing is de-gnoming the garden and trying to avoid walking in on Harry snogging our little sister. Let's have a holiday for fuck's sake."

"He's right, Hermione. We aren't going anywhere. Maybe this will be good for all of us. Let's take some time to just relax away from The Burrow and take a break before you take on the monumental task of reversing the memory spells, rebuilding your relationship with your family and then resuming your studies. You need a holiday. Merlin knows you deserve it."

Hermione started chewing her lower lip, so Ron knew she was thinking it through. "So, what do we do now? Just order room service for two weeks?"

"Well, let's ask the Aussies. We can just rest some, but maybe go off and see the sights a bit too. I am sure there are museums or book stores around here for your entertainment."

"I'm not chaperoning you two in any bloody book shops," George laughed. "There are limits to what I can handle – I am still in a bit of a fragile state, you know."

"Ok, so decision made? Should I go get the Aussies?"

"I guess so. Time for a holiday," Hermione agreed.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Ron was lacing up his trainers in the living room of their hotel suite. They'd come back to change out of the nice clothes they wore to The Australian Ministry that morning and now found themselves with absolutely nothing they had to do for two weeks. He'd been concerned Hermione would shut down after the disappointment of not getting to see her parents, but he was encouraged that she still seemed to be doing well. As usual, the witch thrived on logistics and had quickly ensured that they sent word via international owl to the family back in England advising them of the extended stay, and then she maneuvered them to find the tourism department where they'd been given a stack of pamphlets on sights to see, both muggle and magical. And, the receptionist there had made sure to give them directions to Declan Row, which sounded a lot like the Sydney version of Diagon Alley

"Now what?" asked Hermione as she came out of their bedroom changed into trousers and a jumper for the crisp but sunny fall day outside.

Before he could reply, Ron's stomach grumbled loudly.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," scoffed Hermione.

"Why don't we head over to that Declan Row they told us about. We can find somewhere to eat, feed Ronniekins here and try to come up with a game plan," suggested George as he joined them, pulling a grey jumper over his head as he walked in. Oblivious to the fact that his orange hair was now almost straight up from static, George was quite a sight. But, he was out and interacting with people, so Ron swallowed his instinctual little brother laughter and nodded along with the suggestion.

"Alright," agreed Hermione. "Let me get the tour book on Australia I brought from home and the pamphlets from the tourism office, and we can look over them at lunch."

"As long as it involves food, I am game," offered Ron.

So, the three soon apperated to the coordinates they'd been given for Declan Row. They made their way under a freshly painted bridge and turned into what appeared to be a run down and oddly located souvenir shop. Then they touched their wands to the three travel posters in the back of the shop as instructed and then the magical entrance to the street became visible. They wandered down the clean road taking it all in. While the people and the shops reminded him of Diagon Alley, Ron thought the whole place looked much fresher and newer. None of the buildings were crooked or cobbled together as the old British Wizarding world could often appear.

They soon found a place to eat that was clean and bright, but comfortable enough to look like a pub from home. Once they ordered their sandwiches Hermione quickly covered the entire table in pamphlets and tour books.

"Do you make a plan for everything you do, Granger?" asked George.

"Only everything I do well, George."

"Clever, this one," George quipped.

Ron said nothing, but inwardly he was beaming at the normalcy of Hermione and George bickering and trading one liners. He stretched his long legs out under the table and yawned, still feeling the impacts of both international portkeys and the 11 hour time change.

"Are we keeping you up?" teased George.

"Nah," Ron answered through another yawn. "I slept well. Not sure why I'm so sleepy."

"Jetlag," Hermione said without looking up from her pamphlets.

"What?" both boys asked together.

"Jetlag. It's a muggle phrase, apparently, that means when you have traveled so far that your body feels like it is on another time zone than the one you are actually in. Basically – your body is trying to tell you it's the middle of the night and not the middle of the day."

"'Bout sums it up," nodded Ron.

"Ok, seriously, what do you two want to do?" Hermione muttered as she scanned over some of the pamphlets. "We could tour the city. We could travel around the country – maybe go to that rock I've read so much about. Maybe there are different magical creatures here we've never heard of, ooh and the non-magical creatures here are so unique too."

They each flipped through the papers now scattering the table, but no one had a strong opinion on what sites they needed to see. Soon their meals arrived, so they picked the waiter's brain as well as what visitors had to see while in Australia. But by the end of lunch they had only agreed to figure it out later. As they left the restaurant, Hermione spotted what appeared to be a large bookstore a few doors down.

"Oooh," she squealed excitedly. "We could go in there and do a bit more research on what we should see and do while we are here."

"Yeah, I think that'd be a solid 'no' from me then," said George. "You two go ahead. Maybe even get really crazy and look at a few non educational books or something. I am rather confident that whatever I am going to end up doing in Australia is not going to start in a book shop."

"Well, we don't have to go there," protested Hermione, but her heart was clearly already on immersing herself in new books.

"Nah, it's all good. I am still re-entering this social world where I get out of bed each day, get dressed and actually talk to people. And, no offence, but I have just about reached my fill for the day. You two go to the book shop, and I'll wander around on my own a bit. We'll just meet back at the hotel later."

"Well if you're sure," said Hermione as she hugged him and practically sprinted off to the bookstore.

Ron and George both laughed at this.

"You're sure you're good?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. I've been not quite up to par, but I'll be fine. I'm just going to walk around a bit I think. And when I am tired of people, I'll go back and catch up on my napping that has been severely lacking since taking over as chaperone."

"Ok," said Ron. Then he turned to look at the bookshop and laughed as he noticed a comfy sofa by the window. "I think I may just have found my spot. A couple of quidditch magazines and I'll be set for the day," Ron laughed. "You'll know where to find me if you need me," he quipped and headed off after Hermione.

As George left his brother and Hermione in the bookshop, he chuckled and shook his head he watched Ron settle in to wait patiently while Hermione read every book on the shelf.

"Oh Freddie, if you could only see how bad our ickle Ronniekins has it," he sighed.

Then he took a deep breath and wandered off down the road where no one knew him. It was a strange sensation, he thought. He had spent a lot of time alone since Fred's death, but this was the first time since he lost his twin that he had both been around people and been alone at the same time. And no one was pitying him. No one was looking at him with a grimace as they saw Fred's face looking back. No one was looking at him as half of something.

As he saw two young women walking by he flashed them his "hello ladies" smile, and they smiled back. But he suddenly realized he had no idea how to start conversations or meet people on his own. He had never done it before. He caught his breath a moment as he realized that he had not once made a friend on his own. It was staggering really. He and Fred had been a force. People seemed to flock to them like a magnet, somehow drawn to their banter or antics. They'd always created such a dialogue to draw other in – to make others seek them out. Now it was just him.

He thought about Ron, about how he had climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express all those years ago and somehow managed to immediately find two of the most fantastic friends imaginable. How the hell had he done that at eleven years old?

As he was lost in his thoughts he meandered along the street looking in the different storefront windows. There were broom shops, candy stores, apothecaries, antique shops, robe shops and even a branch of Gringotts. He popped into a few just to compare to things back home, but his mind was elsewhere, still in a daze over how to function in the world as just George. And then he saw it – a fucking magical joke shop.

It was as if his feet were suddenly cemented to the sidewalk with a sticking charm while the world slowed to a crawl around him. He felt the air suck from his lungs, water surge to his eyes and then quickly blinked the tears back. Sweat broke out across his face, hands and back, and he noticed he was hyperventilating. He really didn't want to pass out in the middle of a street on his first adventure as a singleton. But, the surreal feeling of being caught in some sort of strange nightmare kept him stuck to his spot in the road. Eventually he was able to crawl through the panic and began to notice other parts of his surroundings and found he was across the street from a coffee shop. He managed to force his legs to move and made his way in, ordered some tea and found a seat at the counter where he could sip the tea and look at the joke shop through the window. For nearly an hour he watched the shop. He had escaped all the way to the other side of the world and of all things he stumbles across on the first day it had to be a magical joke shop. He figured Fred must have had a hand in this and cursed his twin.

"It's not fucking funny, Freddie," he growled under his breath. "I am trying to figure out who I might be or can be without you, so this is really about as unhelpful as you can possibly be, you bloody prat."

Eventually he decided it was mad to stare at a shop. Wasn't like it was going to get up and run away. And it wasn't going to attack him or hurt him. And he was convinced having seen people go in and out of it that it wasn't just a figment of his imagination or a post-mortem prank from his brother. So, he resolved that the only thing to do was to simply go in it. Like a normal customer. Just to look around a bit. Not panicked. Not research really. He maybe wanted to buy something to prank his lovebird brother and his girlfriend. Yeah. That was it. Something to mess with his baby brother. He could pull pranks on his own. That was not only something FredandGeorge did, it was something he could do as just George. Something he _would_ do as just George. So, he took a last swig of his tea, put his mug down and took a deep breath and headed off across the street.

As he opened the shop door a little bell tinkled to alert his presence, but he didn't see anyone tending the store. The sound of the bell had yanked on a cord of memory so strong it threatened to choke him. The familiarity of the smell and feel was palpable, and he willed the emotion to go back down his throat and stop threatening to pour out of his eyes. But thankfully, it was just slightly different enough to feel like a different place. It reminded him of Wheezes, but it was not their shop. Well, not _his_ shop.

Looking around he saw a lot of products similar to the ones they carried back home – trick wands, candies that would do various tormenting things to whoever was unlucky enough to consume them and various items that could embarrass a friend in short order.

"G'day," called an elderly wizard from the back of the store.

George looked up to see a heavy set man who looked old enough to be his grandfather. He didn't use a cane, but it looked like one might be helpful. He was balding, and wore thick square glasses, but his eyes had a sparkle to them, and he wore a friendly smile as he made his way over to him.

"G'day mate, anything I can help you find today?"

"Nothing special really, I was just looking around a bit."

"From England, huh?"

"I guess my accent gives that away, doesn't it?"

"I'd say so, mate. What brings you to Australia?"

"I'm here with my brother and his girlfriend. Her parents live here – they're muggles. But, we just arrived yesterday, so I am wandering around a bit to get the lay of the land. Oh – and always looking for ways to prank my brother, I suppose."

"Younger brother I am assuming then?"

"Precisely."

"Yes – important to never let him think he's outgrown being put in his place by his elders. Or at least that is my personal opinion."

"Spoken like a true prankster, sir"

"Why thank you. I guess I'd have to be to make a living running a joke shop."

"May I ask you if you are glad you did that? The joke shop I mean. Is it as fun as it was back when you started it?"

"Well, son, that sounds like a mighty loaded question."

"Sorry, I don't mean to pry. It's just – I have a joke shop back in England. Or – I did anyway. Well, we – I mean, my, uh, my – my b.. my _business partner_ recently passed away, and I am trying to decide what to do. If I want to keep it or move on." He had no idea why he was saying all of this to this total stranger. But, he had kind but mischievous eyes that George somehow found reassuring.

"I'm sorry to hear that. That is so difficult. I know, unfortunately from personal experience, how hard that really is. But, I can tell you I am glad I stuck with it. It was not the same with Al gone, but I love what I do. I can't really imagine doing anything else."

"Huh. I guess I can't either. But maybe it's still too soon to imagine going back yet either."

At that the bell signaling another shopper rang, and a gaggle of giggling children came into the store.

"I need to help them, or at least watch them a bit. I don't know how long you are in town for, but if you would like to chat more, I think I would enjoy a chance to finish our conversation."

"Brilliant. That would be brilliant. I am a bit of third wheel with my brother and his bird anyway."

"How about meeting up for dinner tonight? There is a place down the road here called the Declan Diner. I close up at 6 so could meet you not long after."

"That sounds fantastic. I'm George, George Weasley, by the way."

"Great to meet you George, I am Richard, Richard Brinks, but everyone calls me Rocks. I'll see you tonight just after 6."

"Cheers, Rocks. See you then."

George felt like he floated out of the joke shop feeling lighter than he had in weeks. He wandered back down the busy street to the book shop where he knew he would find his brother still waiting on Hermione. Sure enough, he found Ron sitting in the same couch by the store's window, where he was flipping through a stack of magazines on Australian quidditch teams and clearly trying hard not to nod off. Seeing him there yawning it was as if he could hear Fred encouraging him to seize the opportunity to sprinkle a little smugness over his baby brother. Grinning, he headed into the store and made his way down a long aisle of books to his brother.

"See you've been taking in all Sydney has to offer, huh?"

"Piss off, George. It's not like you've made the most of the afternoon."

"And that is where you are wrong, ickle Ronniekins. I was actually just popping 'round to tell you I've found myself a dinner invitation for the evening. So, you two will have to survive without your chaperone. Try to make me proud, ok?" he winked.

Ron laughed at the joke, but then he saw George's face. "Wait, what? You're serious? You've only been here a few hours, and you've already met someone?"

"Well, little brother, it doesn't take all of us seven years to get our heads out of our arse. Cheers…" and with that, he waggled his eyebrows, turned on his heels to leave.

George snickered to himself as he headed down the street knowing he'd let his brother think he was meeting a bird. He might confess later, but it felt good to sow a little mischief again. Whoever this George without Fred was going to be, he was relieved to know the prankster instinct and identity still ran strong in his veins. Maybe he could figure this out after all.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Ron was shocked when George had appeared in the bookshop with his news of a dinner date. How the hell had his brother, who had barely left his room in a month suddenly become some sort of Australian Casanova? He just shook his head. _I guess this was what he came to Australia for, to figure things out,_ he mused, _and I guess he's jumping straight in_. So he wandered down the aisles to find Hermione and fill her in.

"You are never going to guess what just happened," he said.

"What?"

"Just saw George, who just came by to let us know he has already met someone, and has dinner plans tonight so we are on our own."

"Really? How is that even possible? We've only been in this country for less than a day, and he's only been off on his own for a few hours!"

"That's exactly what I said! But, he seemed happy – and I haven't seen that in a while so I can't complain."

"I suppose you're right."

"Well, and it has other benefits."

"What?"

"Well," Ron said in a huskier voice and a smile, "that means it's just the two of us, for the rest of the day through at least the evening, which in my book sounds like a good thing."

"Hmmm," she sighed as she snaked her arm up around his neck, "you are absolutely right. That could be a very good thing."

"So, I think we should make the most of it."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I think you should figure out whatever books you can't live without. Let's get those, and then let's get out of here. We can find a nice place to have dinner, just us, and then – what were your words back at Bill and Fleur's – see what happens?" he said with a lopsided grin.

She laughed and blushed but quickly agreed to his plan. She purchased what seemed to Ron to enough books to start a library, and they left the shop.

"Shall we find a place here on Declan Row or do you want to go back to the hotel and drop your books first?"

"I brought my beaded bag, so I'll just store them in there. Let's wander around here and find somewhere to eat."

"Brilliant. That bag has to be one of the most genius ideas ever. Ok, let's go."

They found a small restaurant further down the road where they were able to sit out on a heated patio. When the waiter realized they were from out of town, he assured them they had to order items off the barbie to have a real Aussie experience. So, they agreed to get the sampler meal for both of them. Ron knew Hermione wouldn't each much, but that he could probably finish off her food as well.

"Kind of a crazy day, wasn't it," Hermione asked once they had their drinks.

"I'd say," Ron replied. "I mean, I knew there would be some sort of issue because there always is with us, but I definitely didn't see this coming. And then on top of everything George has himself a date? Who could have predicted that!?"

"It's so strange."

"Agreed. How are you feeling about everything? You look a lot better now than you did earlier."

"I think I am doing a lot better. I was definitely upset earlier. But, I've had a few hours to get used to the idea, not to mention a few hours in a new and fabulous bookshop, and I am actually feeling pretty relaxed. Part of me still wishes we were sitting at dinner with my parents somewhere, but I am definitely starting to warm up to the idea of having a two week vacation with you where we have no responsibilities."

"Good. I know you wanted to see your parents today. But, while I at first thought it would be better for them to have their vacation first, I am starting to think it may be better for you too. Maybe for all of us."

"I am beginning to think you are right. This could be really good."

"Any more thoughts on what you want to do with our two weeks?"

"Well, I got to look at a few books at the shop that had some ideas. But I don't want to fill it all up seeing sites. We need some time to relax too. Maybe tomorrow we could see a few things here in Sydney. I've always wanted to see the harbor and the opera house. Then we could just walk around and get a sense of the city."

"Sounds good to me."

"What about you – anything you want to see?"

"Um, not really - I am just happy to do whatever you want."

Hermione was quiet for a bit and furrowed her brow. Ron realized it wasn't the "I'm coming up with a plan" face but was actually her "I am upset about something" face.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's just – hmm. This is going to come out all wrong, so bare with me."

"Alright…"

"I've just noticed that you – well since the war anyway – you tend to agree with me most of the time."

"That's bad?"

"Not bad, necessarily. It's just different. And you used to be so opinionated about things – annoyingly so actually. But now, you just agree with things, and we don't argue as much."

"OK – you might need to help me here, Hermione. I'm still not seeing where this is a bad thing."

"It might not be. But it is different. And I am worried that maybe it isn't real – or maybe it's real but then in the future – maybe a month or a year down the road – you are going wake up and regret it. Maybe regret me."

"I could never regret you, Hermione. You are the one thing in my life that I am 100% sure about."

"I know the experience of this whole last year has changed us both. And I guess we are still both figuring out what the changes are, as well as which will last and which won't. I mean I know I am not who I was last summer, and I never will be again. But there is some part of me that is the same. And while I am grateful you have been so amazing and supportive to me, I am worried that you are losing a bit of yourself in the process. And, well – I love you. The actual you. I don't want parts of you to just slip away unless it is something you want. And just like you couldn't picture me without a book, well, I guess I have a hard time picturing you just agreeing all of the time with whatever I say."

Ron took her words in slowly and tried to really think about what she was saying. "Well, I hadn't really noticed that, but now that you point it out I think there's probably some truth there. I'm definitely not as – well – disagreeable as I had been. But, I suppose it has been on purpose in many ways." He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips as if he was trying to wipe away what he could see behind his closed eyelids.

"You know – I can tell you the exact second everything changed for me. It wasn't Malfoy Manor, and it wasn't Fred's death. It was the moment I escaped the snatchers, went back to the wood where the tent had been and suddenly realized I couldn't get back to you – well, and Harry. But really you. In that precise moment every single thing crystallized for me. I was just disgusted at who I had become and what I had done. I had lost everyone that mattered to me, and I had just violated the very core beliefs my life was built around. And in many ways, ever since that moment I have spent every day trying to turn that around. To not only be a person who wouldn't – or maybe couldn't - abandon the people he loves but to figure out ways to help them before they even need help."

"But you understand that you left because of the horcrux, right? It wasn't your fault, Ron."

"But it really was, Hermione. That horcrux made things worse, but it took ideas and fears in my head that were already there and just grew them. They were all there to begin with. It just exaggerated it them."

"But you don't blame Ginny for petrifying me do you? That was when she was dealing with the diary. How is this not the same thing?"

"Of course not. She was eleven! And she didn't know what she was doing, or that it was a horcrux – not that she would have known what that was anyway. She didn't want to petrify you. She probably didn't even know what a basilisk was, let alone intentionally set it out to petrify her schoolmates. It was all the horcrux."

"You didn't want to abandon us."

"No, but I wanted it to be done. I wanted to go home and check on my family."

"Right, we all did. But Voldemort took advantage of the situation to try to break us up because he knew that together we were dangerous. So, he took an idea in your head and grew it to the point where there was no way to resist it."

"Exactly, he went after the weakest link – and it was me."

"No – that's not it at all. You weren't the weakest link! Don't you see? He was so clever that he went after the glue that held everything together. He knew that Harry and I would be worthless without you, and he was absolutely right. We couldn't do one single thing. We didn't even speak to each other for days on end. I got lost in my own head. Harry got lost in his brooding guilt complex. Without you to temper us, lighten us, show us how to stay focused and positive, we were absolutely worthless. I wish I could get you to understand that."

The food arrived, and Ron took advantage of the break in conversation to think about what Hermione had said. When the waiter left he tried to re-direct her thoughts away from the horcrux by asking, "So how do you think you're different now?"

"Nice try, Ronald. We aren't done talking about the locket, and you know it."

"Ok, that's fair, but I really do want to know the answer to the question later."

"OK - ask me later then. Look – you yourself said that you realized as soon as you took that damn thing off and left and tried to get back that it was your crystallizing moment, right? So, obviously it had a hold on you and made you do things that – without its influence – you wouldn't have done. We all have thoughts of things we would never actually do. But we have this filter in us that stops that. I think that locket both exaggerated your negative thoughts and destroyed your filter."

"I guess I don't understand how you are so adamant about making this not my fault while I am trying to own up and say it is my fault, I am sorry and I want to make up for it."

"Because it isn't your fault. And if you want be extra thoughtful and do all these nice things then fine, but don't do them out of guilt. Don't do them to atone for a mistake you didn't make. That was Voldemort's doing, not yours, and I think he and his goons have taken enough from us. And you spending time and energy feeling guilty about something he did is just taking more from us."

Ron didn't say anything, and simply started eating his food.

"Look," Hermione sighed, "you know what the cup said to me before I stabbed it in the chamber, right? I didn't wear that thing – I just carried it around for less than a day – really only a few hours! And in that time it suddenly knew my biggest fears and weaknesses and tried to turn that on me. I am not proud that I thought those things – but do you think that was my fault or the horcrux?"

"But they weren't true."

"That is completely beside the point, Ronald. The point is that they were my most intimate secret fears. And he used them and twisted them and exaggerated them to try and defeat me – to defeat us. Look, I don't know what that locket said to you before you stabbed it, and you don't have to tell me. But, I want you to know that I am 100% sure it was the same approach. That locket took your inner most fears – which it probably knew way better than the cup knew mine since you had worn it for _months_ instead of _hours_ – and twisted them and exaggerated them. And you need to know it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you. Harry doesn't blame you, and I wish so desperately that you wouldn't blame you."

Hermione took his hand and held it as Ron just looked down at his lap. He closed his eyes briefly and could immediately see those images coming out of the locket.

"It was different than the cup in the sense that images came out of the locket once it was opened. I mean, I could see everything. First it was my mum saying how I wasn't wanted – wasn't loved. And then it was you and Harry, more or less naked, and you were all entwined together quite intimately, talking about how you wanted me out of the way. The image that looked like you said that you were in love with Harry, that I was absurd to hope that anyone could chose me over the Chosen One, and I was just a third wheel. And, I froze. I could hear the real Harry screaming at me to stab it, but it was so horrifying. You – or the fake you - were just kissing him and telling me to leave. Then the voice said I should stab the real Harry. And I know my head considered it, as the image of the two of you kissing was just so painful. But then I finally stabbed the damn thing. And it was finally over."

"Oh Ron," she gasped, horrified. "And then you came back and I was so terrible to you! I am so sorry. Really, none of that was true. Your mother loves you, and I love you. I hope you know that. And Harry? He has never been anything but a brother to me. Ever. I thought you had always known that. I am so sorry that damn horcrux messed with your mind so much that you could ever believe those things to be true even for one second."

Ron blinked back the tears in his eyes. "I know that _now_. But no, I didn't always know it. I just – I see your point, Hermione – it's just that _I left_. Me. I don't know how you two have forgiven me. How do I forgive myself for that?"

"Maybe you realize that Voldemort won that round. That it wasn't your fault, but that he outsmarted us as a group and figured out how to separate us. And then as soon as you apperated away, you were able to think clearly again and find a way back even though it was terribly difficult. Without the locket, you were yourself again. And as soon as you were back, you killed the locket. And then we kept going, and we won. We each had moments we wish we could do differently from the past year, but that doesn't mean they require forgiveness. It wasn't you that had made that bad decision. You are someone who is dedicated to those he loves and willing to sacrifice everything for what is right. As soon as you were away from the locket, you realized that. But you are also someone who is fun and light hearted and who can help others not to take everything so seriously. And I worry that part of you has gotten lost as you keep trying to somehow earn your own forgiveness."

He sniffed and nodded as he tried to gather his words. "Ok. I hear you. I am not saying I am totally there with the idea that it doesn't need forgiveness. But, I promise I'll keep working at believing that, alright. Your arguments make sense. And, I don't blame others for what they believed under the influence of horcruxes. But I am still struggling, ok? Leaving you and Harry in that place in that circumstance is just such a violation of everything I hold dear. And, it just still feels like such an awful betrayal that I can't just say 'hey – not my fault – blame Voldy' and move on. But - I do promise you I will keep working on it."

"I guess that is all I can ask for. So – how do we try to get the fun loving, opinionated, while still self- sacrificing Ron back?"

"Really? I still can't believe you want me to be more argumentative and opinionated."

"Well, I guess I believe that you actually still have the opinions, but you just aren't saying anything most of the time because you are trying to live up to some insane ideal. And that makes me worry someday it will all just implode. So – what I want is for you to be honest and tell me what you really think or what you really want. And then we can do what we do – argue through it until we get to a solution that is better than what either of us thought to begin with. I know it isn't what normal couples do, but it is what we do, isn't it?"

"I suppose. Weird though. But why mess with what works, right? Though I do love hearing you refer to us as a couple," he grinned. "So what started this whole thing? What is it that you think I have a secret opinion about but am not saying anything?"

"What we do on this surprise holiday. While I appreciate the time we spent in the bookshop today, I know you didn't want to do that. And I know you don't want to go to museums all week. So, while I want to do some things where we explore museums or something, I really do want to do what you enjoy as well."

"I think that is what you are missing. Yes – if you said – hey Ron, would you rather go for a fly or spend the afternoon in a bookstore, I would go for a fly. No question. But, if you said, would you rather go for a fly by yourself or spend an afternoon with the woman of your dreams while she goes to a bookshop, I'd choose that. I choose you Hermione. Always. You make me happy. I want to be with you. The rest is secondary."

"I want to be with you too, but we have to have some give and take, or we will never last as a couple. We can't each lose ourselves. It has to be balanced. Otherwise we will begin to resent each other."

"Can't actually picture that, but I will try."

"Ok, so what in Australia do you want to see?"

"Aside from seeing you happy and seeing George find himself, which is honestly all I really want?"

"Yes, aside from those things."

After taking a moment to think, Ron replied, "Well, I guess I want to get out of the city a bit at some point. I really don't care what we do most of the time. But, there looked like some interesting places in that book of yours that could be fun – like one out in the outback with a giant magical rock that is so magical even muggles notice it."

"Great. I think that sounds wonderful, actually."

"No arguing about it?"

"Why? It's a good idea. We have two weeks to fill. Sounds like a plan to me, and one I wouldn't have come up with on my own. See – better together?"

"Huh. Well, ok then."

"Ok," she grinned as she kissed is cheek.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

After leaving a surprised Ron in the bookshop, George spent a few hours wandering around different shops, but mostly he spent the time just watching people along Declan Row. He wasn't sure if it was the crisp fall air or the bizarre sensation of being by himself in a crowd, but he felt more alive than he had since he'd lost Fred. His mind felt sharper, and he started noticing details he hadn't recognized before. He was entertained by the drain covers on the road which seemed to be charmed to change patterns and shapes whenever a pesky bird or rodent tried to scurry through it to capture some rubbish. But, the reactions of the animals were utterly entertaining, and they seemed both aggravated and disturbingly clever in their ability to work around the charm. And he noticed the overall dress style seemed to be more modern – or maybe it was simply more muggle – in Australia compared to England. He was thinking the colors seemed brighter, but then he wondered if it was just the sudden new awake-ness that he was feeling. But as the afternoon turned to evening George headed up the street to where Rocks had said to meet him at the Declan Diner. George had only just arrived when Rocks came in the door behind him.

"George!" he smiled giving him a warm handshake. "So good to see you again."

"You too, Rocks" smiled George, quickly realizing Rocks was clearly a regular here by the wave of smiles, greetings and nods given to his dining companion.

"Steven, meet my friend, George," he announced to the waiter. "He's visiting from England."

"Welcome," the waiter said with a grin. "Any friend of Rocks is a friend of ours. Hope you enjoy your stay."

"Thanks," smiled George.

They settled in to what George appeared to be Rocks' regular table, and Rocks pointed out some of his favorites on the menu before they ordered from the friendly waiter. As they waited for their food a number of different people all stopped by the table to hug Rocks, crack a joke or even offer ideas of something they'd heard of or would love to buy. Everyone greeted George warmly, but turned their largest smiles to his elderly dining companion. But almost as if everyone knew the rules, once their dinner had been served no one interrupted them anymore.

"So, I believe I was telling you about how I decided to stick with the shop after Al died," Rocks said as George nodded him on. "Well, we were probably just a tick older than you at the time. You see - there was a world war going on in the muggle world back then – their second apparently, and things had boiled over into the wizarding world as well. Same nonsense as it always seems to be about – this group thinks they are better than that group and all of that rubbish. Started with some idiot muggle in Germany and spilled over to Japan, which was certainly more of a problem for us Aussies than the ridiculous Germans. We had started the shop a few years before then, and it was going well, but then we had to shut it down for a while when the fighting started. Times weren't safe then, not to mention no one really had money to spend on gags. And Al and I both got caught up in things. We had to fight - you couldn't not really. It was the right cause, but it seemed so ridiculous. Al and I had always been about making people laugh, not about killing people. But, we both went, we both fought, and I'm the only one who came back."

Rocks finished speaking, sighed, rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers and took a sip of his water. George just stared at Rocks in shocked disbelief.

Finally George managed to say, "Sounds extremely familiar, Rocks," in a somewhat choppy voice.

"Hmm. I had heard about all the troubles in England recently. Sorry to hear you had to deal with all that. But, what I haven't mentioned yet is that Al wasn't just my business partner. He was actually my twin brother. Older by 19 minutes and never let me forget it."

George heard his fork clatter to the table, but it seemed as if time stood still. He froze – couldn't even breathe. He couldn't possibly have heard that right.

"Are you alright there, George?" Rocks asked in concern.

"Uh, I'm not sure," George mumbled trying to block the mental whirlwind in his head and the nausea and panic threatening to kick in as sweat broke out over his brow. He gripped the table in an attempt to stop his hands from trembling. He took a deep breath and tried again.

"Well, maybe I heard you wrong. You didn't – um – you didn't just say he was your twin, did you?"

"Yeah, that's right. Al and I were partners in more than business from day one."

"Shite," George replied automatically as he felt the blood run from his face. "Sorry, um – I can't really believe this," he muttered as he braced his head against a now clammy hand, elbow on the table, oblivious to the gravy it was resting in. He closed his eyes a moment to try and stop the little specks of black threatening to cover his vision as he inched towards fainting.

"You're looking a little pale there, young man."

"Yeah, I bet I am," laughed George, the laughter somehow helping bring the needed blood and oxygen back up to his brain. He took a sip of water, wiped his brow again and said, "You're not going to believe this, Rocks. I never…uh, well…shite – I'll just say it. I told you my business partner died, and he did - but my business partner, Fred, well, he was my twin brother as well."

"Shite," gasped Rocks as he hastily put his glass of water back on the table lest his shaking hand spill it.

"Exactly," sighed George.

The two men just stared at each other for a minute, both so clearly seeing someone else sitting across from them than the man who they were actually eating with.

Finally Rocks shook his head and said, "So, wait - I just want to be sure I've got this. You're telling me that you, George – what was your last name again?"

"Weasley," smiled George. "George Weasley."

"Right, Weasley. So you are George Weasley, a young man who started a joke shop – what's it called?"

"Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," said George with a wistful smile.

"Ooh – good name," remarked Rocks in a different tone. Then returning to his earlier train of thought and serious tone, he continued.

"Right, so you, George, and your TWIN BROTHER, Fred, opened Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, and then Fred went off and got himself killed in a war, and now it's just you thinking about running the joke shop on your own. Does that about cover it?"

George nodded, barely blinking as he stared at the older man across the table.

Rocks stared at him for another minute before saying, "Are you some sort of spirit or something sent by Al to mess with me?"

"I was sort of wondering the same thing about you," George said, only half joking.

Rocks paused a moment, turned to the man behind the counter and yelled out, "Jones, can you bring George and me a bottle of Firewhisky and a couple of glasses, please?"

"Well said," nodded George finally finding the ability to speak without threatening to break into tears.

"Right," nodded the older gentleman.

A bottle of Firewhisky appeared with glasses, and Rocks poured them each a glass.

"Well – shall we toast to Al and Fred and their fucked up sense of humor in the afterlife?"

"To Al and Fred," stammered George as he downed the drink.

They sat in silence a while as each contemplated the odds of the situation they found themselves in. Finally, Al broke the silence.

"So, well, as I obviously have a pretty good idea of what you are going through, why don't you tell me about Fred and how you two started the shop."

"Alright," said George, his voice threatening to crack as he exhaled shakily. "Fuck," he sighed fighting back emotion as he ran his hands through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. "Ok – um – yeah. The shop..." Then George took another slow deep breath before he continued, "Well, we managed to drop out of school in a rather spectacular fashion – which is a good story for another time. But before that we used all of the younger students as testers for our products. We had developed some skiving snackboxes where you could eat some of our stuff, get quickly ill and skiv off from whatever you wanted to ditch – a class, a family dinner, whatever. Students were buying our stuff at school, and then we developed a bit of a mail order business until we found an investor to help us get the capital we needed to found the shop. It went really well for a while, but then it seems we were in the same place as you and Al. The war came, and we found ourselves having to abandon the place in short order. And then the shite hit the fan. There was a battle. We were both went, but only I came back. The prat died with a smile on his face though, even joking in the middle of all that hell," George said as his voice cracked again. "That was about a month ago. I haven't actually been back to the shop yet. I haven't done much of anything, to be honest."

"Only a month?" Rocks said. "Crikey, I'm sorry, George. It sounds so painfully familiar. I remember that time all too well. I am so sorry you're in the darkest part. Know that the pain fades, George, but the memory never does." He took another sip of the Firewhisky and then added, "Actually for me the hardest part was figuring out who I was apart from being half of a duo."

"Precisely!" said George as he downed another drink, animation returning with the flush in his cheeks.

"It's an odd thing, George. Not just for a twin, but especially for twins who have founded a business together, you spend your whole life in a relationship where you balance each other out. You know what the other is thinking. You know what the other is good and bad at, and so you become good and bad at the opposite things to keep things balanced. And that's all by instinct, you never intentionally set out to complement him – you just did. But, all of that is hidden from everyone else. The rest of the world sees you as practically one whole being not two people. You look alike; you create mischief together; you are interchangeable. But _you_ know better."

"Yes. YES! You're the first person who's understood that! It's like I am the only one grieving the real Fred. And if I had died and he had lived, would no one have known who I was different from him?"

"I know. And, people do miss the real Fred, but they just didn't know him as well as you did. I mean your little brother who is here – what's his name again?"

"Ron."

"Right – Ron. I am sure he had a relationship with Fred that was just slightly different that your relationship with Ron. I am assuming you two tormented him when you were together, but you each probably had slightly different relationships with him when you were one on one with him."

"Probably."

"So – now he is grieving the loss of the Fred he knew, as well as the loss of the two of you as a duo."

"Hmm."

"But, quite frankly– that's his problem. And he'll work through it much faster than you can figure things out."

George just sighed as he ran his hands through his hair again blinking his burning eyes.

"Your challenge, George is much bigger. You have to grieve the loss of Fred, the loss of your identity as a twin, your existence as part of a dynamic duo AND you have to figure out who you are on your own. Then on top of that, you have to figure out if you can still run the business –or if you even want to." He looked thoughtfully at George for a moment and then said, "why don't you tell me about how you and Fred worked together. What skills did he bring, and what did you bring?"

"Well," George said as he took another deep breath, still managing to hold off the tears. "That's a great question. No one's ever asked that before. We always did the brainstorming together. We would ping ideas back and forth all of the time. Then, I was the one who was stronger at figuring out how to implement them. I was always the one who was better at potions and charms than Fred was. But, he was the logistical king, and he was better at keeping the business side working. So, I guess I was more of the product development side, and he was the operations guy – found the space, negotiated the purchase of the shop, found suppliers, figured out how much to charge – those kind of things."

"That's great," said Rocks confidently.

"It is?" asked George meekly.

"Yes – definitely. It's actually a bit opposite of Al and me. I was the numbers guy, and Al was the creative one who could make our crazy ideas work. So, when it was just me, I suddenly found myself struggling to keep coming up with new products. I had the ideas, but I needed help figuring out how to translate that into the actual magic."

"So why is that great?"

"Well, I think that it is easier to find someone who can help you with the logistical business side than someone who can develop charms and gags to sell in the shop."

"Hmm. I see your point. So what did you do?"

"Well, I decided that I had to go back to the shop. That shop had been our dream our whole life. And, initially I opened it again as a way to be sure Al's dream didn't die. It was a way to still be with him I suppose. But, turns out, it gave me something to actually do each day – a reason to get out of bed. And, after a while, I found myself enjoying it again. I mean, you have to admit - our line of business is just fun, George. I loved hearing the stories of customers who would come back into the shop and tell me how they used the products, the pranks they pulled or the mischief they managed to make."

George felt his heart skip a beat at the phrasing, but said nothing as Rocks continued, "It was great to see smiles and laughter after everyone struggled with the war for so long. Eventually, I found some help in developing the products, but it was never the same. I had a number of folks over the years who would come in and out and help me refine some products. None of them were ever Al, but we had a good time. And, I'm not sure when it happened, but one day I realized I wasn't doing things to live Al's life for him or keep Al's dream alive anymore. I realized I was living my own life and going after my own dreams. It took a long time to get there though. I don't know about you, but for me there was this mix of emotions in losing Al – I was pissed as hell at him for dying and leaving me in such a lurch. I mean, we never did anything separately how the hell did he think it was ok to up and die without me!? But then I would feel guilty – guilty for being mad, guilty for surviving and living a life he would never get to have, guilty for screwing up our dream, guilty for not feeling grateful enough that I lived. And that's not a life. But, one day I realized that a lot of it had pretty much faded away. And, I was just living again. And in the long run I could thank Al for that – for giving me a bridge of an excuse to keep living for him until I could figure out how to live for me."

"Huh. Well, I would say I am most assuredly still stuck in the pissed off and guilty stage."

"Of course you are. It's only been – what did you say – a month?"

"Yeah."

"Shit, George. Cut yourself some slack. At that point for me I was probably just drunk somewhere."

"Well, I've certainly done a lot of that recently."

"S'alright. To be expected really. Sounds like you have some help with your brother, though. Is he your only other sibling?"

"Hardly," laughed George. "Nah, my parents had seven children – Three older brothers, then Fred and I were numbers four and five, then Ronnie and finally my little sister Ginny."

"Crikey! Seven! Your poor baby sister."

"Exactly."

"Was Fred the only one who died in the war?"

"Yes. The rest of us made it through – some more scarred than others. Mum is having a real hard time of it. She lost her two twin brothers in the last war, and then losing Fred, it's like she is reliving that all over again I suppose. Fred and I were born just after they died, and we were sorta named after them, so – well – it's just shitty."

"But it sounds like a supportive family. I mean – your brother Ron sounds like a pretty good bloke. He seems to be looking out for you."

"Yeah – it's funny – I am having a hard time thinking of him as a grown guy. But, he was actually much more involved in the war than the rest of us, and he certainly grew up in the process. I guess saving the world will do that to you. Suddenly the baby brother is taking care of everyone. And, I have to admit – he found me unconscious on the floor a fortnight ago when I had mixed a few too many potions with Firewhisky. So, I think I scared the shit out of him. It wasn't on purpose. But, well, you know…."

"Unfortunately I do know. And, I wasn't as lucky to have a baby brother still looking out for me after I lost Al. It had always been just the two of us. I had more than a few experiences waking up on a floor not knowing quite how I had gotten there. Not a good habit to get into, mate. Need to nip that one sooner than later, as it is only luck that has kept both of us here, and at some point it runs out."

"I know. I've laid off the potions since then. Scared me shitless too once I realized what I'd done."

"Good to hear it. So, now you are sobering up, present drinks excluded of course, and suddenly in Sydney. How long are you here for?"

"At least a couple of weeks. Sort of a long story, but Ron's girl's parents need some help with things, and it will be at least two weeks before it is all tied up. My parents think I am here chaperoning them so they don't get up to any inappropriate behavior, which is of course total bollocks. But, they were throwing me a lifeline asking me to come, I grabbed it, and now I'm here."

"So what are you going to do for the time you are here?"

"Not sure, actually. I had thought we'd be messing with Hermione's parents – that's Ron's girlfriend – but some things came up, and now I find myself with two weeks of free time. I think Hermione wants to line us up with two weeks of tours and whatnot, but orderly tours of historical muggle attractions has never really been my thing, you know?"

"Oh, yes, I would definitely not envision you on a bus tour of Sydney full of camera- clad Japanese muggle tourists," laughed Rocks. "Blokes like us have always been more of the type who embrace the unexpected I suppose."

"Exactly. So – what would you suggest I do?"

"More of exactly what you've been doing. Wander around, see what life brings, and what you can bring to it I suppose."

"Yeah?"

"Well, yeah. If you want you can spend some time in my shop. I can show you what's worked and what hasn't – maybe pass on a few tricks of the trade. Maybe you can help me work through a few things I haven't been able to crack."

"Really?"

"Sure. It could be fun. But, you shouldn't spend your whole holiday here stuck in my shop with an old geezer like me. It's a big country – there are a lot of interesting people out there. Certainly one or two closer to your own age than I am, and probably a few sheilas to boot. I have a friend who runs a shop in Perth, he's not quite as young as you, but certainly closer. He's someone who you could pop down and see for a few days. Learn a bit about things from his perspective. His shop has more toys and such than mine, but he's done well in Perth. You could get a sense of how some different stores run and just use the time to try and picture if that is a life you want for you or if it was just something you wanted as a pair. No rush, but maybe being in some similar shops will help ease you back into thinking about it without the emotional baggage of your actual store back in London."

"Wow, Rocks, thanks. That would be amazing."

They settled up their bills and Rocks looked at his watch. "Well, now – it is late, and I am an old man who just had too much Firewhisky. So, I am going to head home. But, come round the shop any time and I'll be happy to see you."

"Great – I definitely will."

Rocks reached out to shake his hand but didn't let go, adding, "Running into you is too strange to not have been arranged by at least one of our brothers, George. Not sure which one to blame or thank, but it has been a pleasure talking about Al again with someone who can understand."

George nodded emotionally, "Yeah. Same here."

Rocks smiled, patted George affectionately on his back and turned toward the counter. "Now, Jones, will you help a slightly drunk old man floo home, good sir?"

"Of course, Rocks. I always do," said the man behind the counter. Jones helped the elderly wizard into the fireplace and helped him get home. After Rocks had disappeared behind the green flames, Jones smiled back to George.

"Rocks is a good man. He's like the grandfather of Declan Row. Or maybe the fun uncle depending on how old you are. He's been a key part of the childhood of just about every witch and wizard I know. How do you know him?"

"Well, fate I suppose. I have a similar shop back in London, and he's been giving me some advice about things."

"Couldn't ask for a better man to do that, then."

"I am learning that."

"We all love him. He's all alone in some ways – never married or had kids – but everyone around here just adores him and treats him like family. Especially here at the diner, he's here at least 5 days a week I suppose."

"Glad he has people like you looking after him, Jones. Seems like one incredible bloke."

"He is. Hope to see you again – sorry – didn't catch your name?"

"George. My name's George. And I'm sure I'll run into you again soon. I'm here for a few weeks, and Rocks has offered to show me a few things in his shop."

"Great – well, good to meet you. And we'll see you soon, George."

George headed back out onto Declan Row and wandered into the crisp evening. He wanted to walk and clear his head a bit before going back to the hotel. It just seemed unfathomable that he would meet someone like Rocks. It was almost like just meeting his future self. It was incredible, but admittedly a little creepy at the same time. What were the sodding odds of this? Stumbling across another twin-less twin who ran a joke shop alone having lost his brother in a damn war? Could Fred and Al really have manipulated this meeting somehow? While tempted to find a pub somewhere and ponder all of this with the help of more Firewhisky, he decided to face it as clear headed as he could. So he just kept walking around Sydney. As the evening went on, and the buzz of his earlier drinks wore off, something about the crisp air helped bring things into focus.

He had to take this chance. Whether Rocks was a figment of his imagination, a gift sent from his brother or just luck, he was going to seize it. Even without the added bonus of someone who understood what he was dealing with having just lost Fred, here was an experienced businessman who was willing to show him the tricks of the trade. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. And it seemed Rocks almost needed someone to pass his knowledge onto as well, so maybe it would be good for both of them.

"Oh, Freddie," George sighed aloud into the night as he stood at an overlook onto Sydney Harbor. George smiled, knowing he could still hear what his brother would have said in his head.

"I know, I know. Knock off the bloody moping and get on with it already. Just...well...yeah...you know...just wish we were both here to meet him and seize the chance. But I'll do it and see what we can, I mean what I can learn."

George looked up at the sky again and squinted, trying to see stars through the bright muggle light of Sydney. But then he laughed at himself. "Kinda like you, Freddie. I know you're there – just can't see you." Then he yawned and realized how truly tired he really was. Glancing at his watch he realized it was almost 11 and laughed again thinking of how he led Ron to believe he'd met a bird. Still chuckling he stepped behind a tree and apperated back to the hotel. And, for the first time since Fred died, he was excited to rest up and see what the next day held.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Hermione and Ron headed back to the hotel shortly after dinner to discover George was still out on his mysterious dinner date.

"Do really think he met some girl?' Hermione asked.

"I assume so, but he didn't say that specifically. He just said he had a dinner invitation."

"Still think it's bizarre."

"No argument here, but this is George we're talking about."

"So – now what? Do we kill time watching the tele until he's back?"

"Well – uh," Ron laughed nervously. "Are we still doing that thing where I say what I really think, and then you don't yell at me?"

"Of course, why else would I ask you, Ron?"

"Right. Ok. Well, here goes nothing. I guess I am thinking two things. One is that I really do want to make sure he's ok. But, I don't need to sit here watching the clock tick until he's back. And two," he paused, felt his ears turning red, took a deep breath before continuing. "What I really want to do is take advantage of us having some time alone – you know – in a hotel room - with a giant bed," he said sheepishly.

She grinned. "I think you have yet another perfect plan. I am still not ready to have sex yet, but I know we have figured out how to enjoy ourselves despite that," she said as she walked over, stretched up on her tippy toes and put her arms around Ron's neck.

"Brilliant in so many ways," he whispered as he bent to kiss her. She responded swiftly, deepening the kiss and lifting her leg up to wrap around him. He quickly lifted her by the bum, and she wrapped the other leg around his waist, and he carried her to the bedroom. Kicking the door closed, he quickly set a locking and silencing charm that would keep their activities to themselves, but would let him know when George returned.

She was already working to undo the buttons of his shirt, and he caught up quickly, lifting her jumper and shirt up over her head, all of them thrown to the floor. He moved on to her bra, managing to unhook it much quicker than his last attempt, and soon they were both naked from the waist up. He lifted her up and moved her to the bed, and then his mouth quickly moved to her breasts as she tangled her hands into his hair. While their time at Bill and Fleur's had been slower and more tentative, tonight felt like the passion was suddenly overflowing between them. Their gasps and moans were increasing, and each was encouraging the other. Ron felt himself hardening quickly, but he also felt the heat growing between her legs as they tangled on the bed. Before he knew it, they both shed their trousers, leaving them once again down to her knickers and his pants.

As she was sucking on his neck, he realized that there was still somewhere he hadn't kissed on her yet, but he wasn't completely sure she would be on board it. While he was hesitant to be so forward, he tried to take all she had said earlier to heart. Soon he had rolled her over to her back. He pulled back briefly to ask, "Do you trust me?"

"Always," she said as she kissed him again. He kept her pinned beneath, rolling her nipples in his fingers, and then taking them in his mouth. She squirmed in pleasure beneath him, which simply urged him on, grinning against her soft chest. While still working her breasts with his hands, he moved his mouth down to her amazingly creamy stomach, and kept moving down. He held her gaze while he hooked her knickers to be sure it was ok. She smiled at him so lifted her tiny bum and stripped her down completely.

"So fucking amazing, Hermione. You are so incredibly beautiful."

"No, Ron, I'm really not…"

"Hermione, you are the sexiest, most gorgeous and fit witch I have ever seen," and he cut off her protests with a passionate kiss. Next he slowly pulled her legs apart as he moved his mouth down to where only his hands had been before.

"Oh," she moaned in a mix of recognition, nerves and pleasure.

"Ok?" he checked, praying she would say yes.

"Mmm hmm," she mumbled, eyes closed and head thrown back.

He could feel her tremble slightly, and he tried to reassure her in every way he could. He tenderly held her hips and caressed her stomach as he dipped his head back between her thighs, taking his tongue directly between her folds. He felt her arch her back and gasp immediately in response, which assured him he was doing something right. He felt her own hand seeking his and reached out, her fingers sliding in between his as she gripped him tightly.

"You taste so fucking good, Hermione," he moaned as he went back to exploring her with his tongue.

He really wasn't sure what he was doing. He had gotten her off only once before, but he hadn't been able to see what he was doing then. So, he was still figuring out where and how to touch her to elicit the best responses. He grinned against her when he noticed she would unintentionally quiver or buck her hips toward him. He knew how tightly Hermione held her self control, so he didn't take lightly how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be with him. And somehow, that managed to turn him on even more than he already was, which he actually hadn't realized was physically possible at this point.

His cock was throbbing with want and he found himself having to reach down to stroke himself a little just to relieve the distraction. By accident he sucked in while his mouth was around her nub and Hermione gasped in pleasure while almost coming off the bed. He smirked to himself at the reaction and immediately returned for more, this time reaching his free hand up to her breast to pull on her rock hard nipple as he sucked her like a sugar quill. Only moments later he could feel her come closer and closer, her hips rolling seemingly of their own accord, and then she seized into an orgasm, trapping his head between her clenched thighs, her hand holding his head to her as her body shuddered with pleasure. She screamed his name and then finally collapsed back to the bed. He knew he had a ridiculous grin on his face, but Merlin he thought that was fantastic. Fucking sexiest thing he could have ever imagined.

As he slowly settled from his smug high, he eventually nestled between her legs, kissing her softly as she regained her breath.

"Ron – oh Merlin," she panted. "I - I never knew it could feel like that. I..."

He just grinned at her. She stared back for a few moments, her eyes totally dark with unrestrained desire, and then without warning she grinned and took charge. She had quickly stripped him of his boxers, leaving him bare to her for the first time. He felt himself flushing as she moved her eyes over him, his cock large and straining from arousal.

"Ron, you are huge!" she cried, which was certainly music to his ears. She went to straddle him his stomach, but she didn't quite hit what she was aiming for, and the contact between his cock and her now dripping center was sweet torture to him causing him to hiss in delightful agony. Her wet core seemed to sear his skin as it rubbed against his erection. He reached up shakily to grasp her breasts as she slowly rocked back and forth against him, his cock trapped between them and burning with ache to get closer to her folds. She was groaning in pleasure, but his moans and haggard breath must have alerted her to just how close he was, so she shimmied down off of him to slow him down.

"Just relax, let me have a go, ok."

"Hermione, you don't have to…..HOLY SHIT," he cried as she took him in her mouth, his head slamming back against the bed. The sensation was enough to make his eyes roll back in his head as he tried to catch his breath. " _Fuck_ ," he finally gasped.

She was moving up and down his cock with her tight mouth, working his shaft with her hot, wet tongue. He'd always known her smart mouth would do him in eventually and fuck if hadn't been right.

"Fuck, Hermione...I'm not gonna last long," he panted through gritted teeth.

She smiled at him and then bobbed her head further down, torturing him with her tongue.

"Hermione I'm gonna…" and then he came, but could not believe it when he saw her swallow it.

"Holy fuck, Hermione, did you just?" but words failed him and he just lay there with his eyes closed trying to recover.

Hermione just smiled as she crawled up over top of him, burrowing between his arm and chest. He was slowly returning to earth while she let her fingers dance over his chest gently connecting freckles in random patterns. As Ron's breathing calmed back down, he turned to her and said, "That was utterly amazing. How on earth did you...?"

She smiled wickedly at him, licked her lips and said, "Surely you know me well enough by now to know I love to learn all kinds of things in books, Ron."

"Seriously?" he laughed. "I should have known you would read up on this. Maybe I should read more."

"I don't know, I thought you were pretty amazing yourself."

"I probably shouldn't say this, but I have had years of sexual fantasies about you, and none of those even came close to how amazing you actually are. You are sexier and more gorgeous than my wildest dreams, and the way you made me feel - I really could not have even imagined."

She blushed profusely, which he thought was funny considering they were laying there together naked in a hotel room.

"Ron, you really are huge – how is that ever going to fit in me? I'm tiny!"

"Well, we have figured out more difficult problems than that, I suppose. I am sure we will figure out how to make it fine – better than fine actually."

"You know, I think I will be ready soon, Ron."

"Really? I don't want to rush you."

"But you're ready, right?"

"I'm a bloke, Hermione."

"So that's a yes, then?"

"Hermione, I am ready whenever you are, and not one minute sooner. I want our first time to be special for you, because you deserve amazing. And unless you are sure you are ready, it won't be right. But, if tonight is any indication, we can have a bloody amazing time without actually having sex."

"Soon," she said as she leaned in to kiss him again. A few slow kisses became a more heated snog session. And this time, unlike at Bill and Fleur's, they had the time to go for a second round and took full advantage of it. Ron was shocked at how quickly his cock was hard again, and they once again brought each other to release after exploring each other's bodies. Utterly spent, they eventually curled up together, and Hermione fell asleep against his bare body. Ron was enjoying the view of her naked silhouette against the moonlight from the window when he heard George come back in. Sighing at the idea of moving, he resigned himself to it and quietly snuck out of bed, slipped his pants back on and headed to the living room to check on his brother.

"Nice outfit," George commented.

"Good to see you too, George. Want to tell me about your sudden dinner date?"

"Want to tell me how Hermione finally got you out of your pants?"

"Don't be such a wanker, George – we'd only been on the bloody continent for a few hours after you hadn't left your bedroom for a month except for the time you almost accidentally offed yourself and now suddenly you've made a new best friend or found a bird or something. I'm just checking on you. If you tell me you're good and to shove off, I will."

"Ok, fair enough. My mind's a little overloaded right now, but I promise I'll catch you up in the morning, all right? I promise – I'm good. It was a _really_ good night."

"OK, I'm glad to hear it."

George smiled and nodded, "Yeah. Thanks. Good night."

"Good night, George; see you in the morning."

Ron headed back to the bedroom still not totally sure what to think of George's evening. But, his heart skipped a beat as he looked at Hermione laying naked in the bed. He shimmied his pants back off, crawled back in under the cover and spooned up behind her while holding her close. As he fell asleep he wondered how he ever got so lucky.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

It was the following morning at breakfast when George told Ron and Hermione about Rocks.

"Wait. Hang on. Just - wait a minute," Hermione interrupted. "This wizard and his twin started a joke shop business back in the 40s, and then he lost his twin in WWII, and he has run the joke shop on his own ever since?"

"Seems to be the short of it, yeah."

"And you don't find it just a tad bit strange that you just _happened_ to meet him on your first day in Australia?"

"Well, of course I do – I find it utterly inexplicable. And I haven't figured out how to get my mind around it. He is an amazing person. And, you should see how everyone responded to him. So, that made me feel it ease that he wasn't someone who had been randomly polyjuiced or something. I talked to the waiter about him a bit after dinner, and he did nothing but rave about him."

"Ok, well, I do feel better that you least considered it," said Hermione.

"It's really incredible," said Ron.

"Well, Rocks seemed pretty shocked by the coincidence as well. But, I tell you, it was great to finally talk to someone who really understands what this has been like for me. He even helped me put words to things I wasn't even understanding yet. And, well, it – it's the best I have felt since the day Fred died. And, I spent a lot of time walking last night just trying to wrap my brain around it all. And, I don't know if it is a freakish coincidence, or something arranged by Fred and Rocks' twin, Al, or what. But, I feel like I have been sent a chance, and I think I would be mad not to take it."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Ron, earnestly wondering while trying to hide his increasing concern at the lack of food being consumed off of Hermione's plate.

"Well, I think I am going to go back over today and see if I can help in the shop for a bit. He offered to show me how he runs things, talk me through some of the pitfalls he's discovered along the way, and he asked me to help him brainstorm on a few product ideas he has. He also offered to hook me up with a friend of his in Perth as well and visit his shop."

"Are you thinking you will open your shop again when we get home?" asked Hermione as she tried to feign interest in the scrambled eggs she was scooting around her plate.

"Honestly haven't decided yet. But, I feel like this could help me figure it out."

"Can we meet him?" asked Ron. "I mean, I get that you trust him. But, could we meet him as – well - just as a second gut check? We wouldn't stay all day or anything. Maybe we could all go over later this morning, we'd meet him and then Hermione and I would take off and you two could do your thing. What do you think?"

"Yeah, sure. He'd love it, and we'd all feel better for it. But what are you two going to do today?"

Hermione replied, "Well, I think we'll explore some of the muggle tourist sites today – maybe see the opera house, see Sydney Harbor and maybe even try to go to the zoo and see some kangaroos. But, I think we want to figure out some more information on taking a few side trips while we are here. So, we need to do a bit of research on those today."

"Shall we try to meet up for dinner later?" asked Ron already trying to figure out how to get more food into his witch.

"I'm not sure about that," answered George. "I want to be able to play it by ear with Rocks."

"Do you want to just send us a patronus later and let us know?" Hermione offered.

"Um – well, honestly I don't think I can conjure one just yet," confessed George, his eyes looking down.

"I'm so sorry," apologized Hermione quickly. "I wasn't thinking clearly. Of course that's not a good plan."

"How about Hermione and I will plan to come back to the hotel before dinner. If we catch up with you, then great. But, if you end up finding plans with Rocks, then that works too."

"Sounds perfect. I appreciate you guys being so good about this. I know it's bizarre, but I have to grab it, you know?"

"We know, George. And for what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing, and I can't wait to meet him," replied Hermione.

George gave her a genuine smile and placed his hand over Hermione's, holding it firmly as he said, "Means more than you know, Granger."

She smiled and gave a small squeeze of his hand in response, touched by his moment of sincerity. Ron watched the scene both glad for his brother, and also impressed at his lack of jealous instinct for once. He chuckled into his tea thinking, "Emotional rage of a teaspoon, my arse."

The view of Sydney Harbor from the opera house Hermione wanted to see was spectacular. Ron wasn't sure he actually knew what opera sounded like, but he thought the building was bloody brilliant. If The Burrow looked like it could be toppled by the breeze at any moment, then this place looked like it could fly away of its own accord. And to think muggles built it without magic sort of blew his mind. Eventually they left the perch up on the gorgeous building and headed back to sea level. It was gorgeous up there, but he was glad they'd had the benefit of warming charms in that wind. After strolling around for a bit they decided to take a ferry across the harbor. They chatted some about nothing in particular, but largely they just enjoyed contented silence together. Between the company, the views and the breezes, Ron felt thoroughly relaxed. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt that at peace.

He wondered if it was meeting Rocks that morning that put him so at ease. The elderly wizard seemed a lot like how he had pictured the twins as grandfathers – kind and welcoming, but still mischievous with that glint in his eye that Ron knew all too well meant to never eat anything he was given by the man. He felt a pang of sorrow wash over him as he thought about how Fred would never have a chance to be a father, let alone a grandfather. But, he was also grateful that George had found this unlikely kindred spirit. Hermione had agreed that Rocks was someone they could trust with George, and then they laughingly agreed that they couldn't trust the two pranksters with much else without risking utter turmoil. Seemed to be a perfect match.

He closed his eyes for a moment as he sat with Hermione on the top deck of the ferry with her leaning into his chest smiling lazily. He kissed her forehead, and tightened his arm around her shoulder as they watched boats go by on the water. It was chilly in the fall of the southern hemisphere, but it was sunny and crisp. Ron thought Sydney just felt cheerier than London, even if they were both big cities. But, he wasn't sure if it was the sunshine or that most of his experience of London in recent years was associated with the war. Once the boat had crossed the harbor they got off and decided to find a place to have lunch.

Before long they came upon a café on the edge of a park. It was a small place with a half wall open to a bright kitchen in the back that had a few booths along the sides and one table next to the front window. Without having to ask, they both knew they would be most comfortable in the back corner booth with a view of the whole restaurant and their back facing nothing but a wall. Some habits that the last year had engrained in them would be very hard to change. But, instead of using their seat to keep an eye on the door or other diners for potential risks, Ron seemed to be enthralled with the kitchen.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked him.

"Well, I'm watching all the things they're doing back there. Isn't it fascinating?"

"I am not sure that would have been the first word I used to describe it."

"Really? Look at that big tray thing that they slide the dishes into. What is that?"

"It's a dishwasher."

"Really? It doesn't look like the one at your parents' house. Huh. And what is that thing that makes the whirring sound?"

"Um – it's a commercial dishwasher so it's bigger and faster than what you would have in a house. And the whirring sound, well I can't see it too well from here, but it sounds like a blender or maybe a food processor."

"Dad would have a field day."

"Yes, he would."

"You know, I forget sometimes how this is all boring - or at least normal - to you. Today as we've walked around, I feel a bit like I've landed on another planet. And some of it is being in Australia where summer and winter are backwards and they talk funny and all that, but a lot of it is just being in the muggle world. I know we've only been wandering around for a few hours, but I would venture it's as much time in one go as I have ever spent in the muggle world."

"Huh. I hadn't even thought of that. Have you enjoyed it?"

"Definitely! I mean, I don't know that I'll ever need a shed of muggle artifacts like my dad has, but it really is interesting. It's just such a different way of doing everything."

"You know there are times when I still feel that way about the magical world. It isn't as pronounced as it was when I was younger. But, I think when you grow up seeing things always work a certain way, I suppose your brain just assumes that is how things are everywhere. And, we certainly grew up in two different worlds when we were little."

"Certainly did. But I don't think it was just the muggle and wizarding worlds."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I haven't really spent much time around your parents, but it does seem like they just live a very different life than my parents. You grew up an only child; I grew up the sixth of seven children. Both of your parents were very educated and have excellent jobs, and that also means a certain income level; Dad's job was something he loved but never made any money at, and Mum didn't work outside of the home, so while it was full of people it was definitely not full of money. You went to a good primary school, and I was homeschooled. Not saying one is better than the other – just that they were really different."

"I know sometimes you seem very self-conscious about how you grew up, Ron. But, do you understand that my times at The Burrow every year have always been my favorite?"

Ron gave her a cheeky grin and wiggled his eyebrows. She laughed and playfully hit his harm.

"No, not just because of you, you prat. Your home – and your family really – it just emits love. I've never known anything like it. The home I grew up in is large, and pretty and terribly empty and lonely. I often ate with the baby sitter. Family dinners were the three of us eating take away, and that was only when one or both of them didn't end up working late with some dental emergency. I have great memories of those meals, but it doesn't hold a candle to a regular weeknight dinner at your home. The love, the noise, the chaos, the plates clearing themselves off the table, the amazing food your mum makes – it is so unique."

Ron felt his face go blank, and a wave of sadness come back over him. "It won't ever be the same."

Hermione grew quiet. "I know. It won't. No one could ever replace Fred. But it wouldn't have been the same even if he hadn't died. Soon there will be more people who come to the table as well. Now Teddy's joined the family. I would think it won't be too long before Bill and Fleur have children, and then it will shift from your Mum chasing after you seven to the Grandmum ruling over the entire brood. It will always evolve – for better and for worse I suppose. Nothing ever just stays the same. But, I honestly do think The Burrow will be full of laughter again. It is still full of love even now, but pain and grief are a part of real love. They say its two sides of the same coin – to love deeply you automatically open yourself up to great loss. But I still think it's worth it – to take that risk. Don't you?"

Ron nodded, "I worry about Mum. It's amazing really, to think she buried two brothers, and then managed to open her heart up to love so many children. And really to add you and Harry in without blinking an eye. I've wondered sometimes about how she finds the well or reserves to draw from, you know? And now to lose Fred, I don't know how you keep going as a parent. How do you find the courage to keep loving unconditionally again?"

After a few moments Hermione said, "When I was upset last week, your mum was trying to assure me that my parents still love me even if they don't remember me. She said something that stuck with me – she said even if she had no memory of her children that a mother's heart always has a space shaped specifically for each of her children. She said it is powerful magic – a magic that muggles have as well, and I have been clinging to that idea ever since then. I think that parental magic must have something to do with that unending reserve of love."

Ron thought about this, and then said, "I think that description of two sides of coin is brilliant. That makes love even more sacrificial - like by loving someone so deeply you know you are willing to risk the agony of loss, you know?"

"Well, maybe that is why your whole family ended up in Gryffindor – they are all courageous enough to open their hearts to loving so many people."

Ron thought about this for a minute before laughing, "Well, maybe – but it's a bit odd trying to picture Seamus as the brave, loving lion."

"Can't argue with that!" she scoffed back.

"But it does take courage to risk your heart," he added quietly. Then, after pausing a moment, Ron added in almost a whisper, "You know I thought my heart would actually break into 1,000 pieces that night at Malfoy Manor. I couldn't understand how Harry and Luna and the others weren't going mad listening to you. It wasn't that they didn't love you. Harry would do anything for you. But, it wasn't the same."

Hermione took his hand and held it. "I know," she said quietly.

Ron just shook his head and kissed Hermione's hand. "I so wish it could have been me."

"I know that too," she said in a sigh. Then after a moment she added, "But I'm glad it wasn't. Not just because I know that it was easier to endure it myself than it would have been to have been in your shoes. But, God, Ron, everything you did to bring me back to myself at Shell Cottage as I was healing. I really don't know that I could have done that - or would have had any inkling of how to do it. You are so brilliant at just intuitively understanding people and knowing things like that."

"No, you would have come up with something much more brilliant and probably faster," he teased.

"Ron! I really wish you could see yourself for how brilliant and amazing you really are. I know you don't believe me about that. But it's true. And someday I will figure out how to make you see it. But, for now, just now I am grateful for you – and grateful you took such amazing care of me."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while enjoying their lunch. After a while Ron asked, "Can I ask you a totally unrelated question?"

"Of course."

"Well, do you think that if there hadn't been a Voldemort and we had just had a normal Hogwarts life that we would have still gotten together if we hadn't been through all of this together?"

Hermione took a moment to ponder the questions, but finally said, "Yes. I do – the circumstances of us figuring it out would have different, and our first kiss may have been slightly less dramatic, but I think we were just drawn to each other from even before things got bad."

"But I was so awful to you when I was young, and if Quirrell hadn't let in that troll do you think you could have ever found a reason to forgive me and be willing to actually be friends?"

"Well, I guess that's why we don't mess with time turners. We'll never really know. But, I hope so. I was pretty strung out then and clearly had no idea how to behave around other children. But, I was friends with Neville, and maybe through that we would have eventually been ok," she said as she took a sip of her drink.

"I hope so. I would hate to have to be grateful Voldemort existed."

She laughed at that and tried hard not to spit out her drink. "Well said," she giggled. Then she added, "And, I think we would have. We were drawn to each other. Of course, at the time I was just infuriated by you, but honestly you can't get that worked up about someone if you truly don't care what they think. I mean, you never saw me that worked up because Pansy Parkinson said something awful about me."

"Well, you're right about that because I was mad about you before I could even figure out what the feelings were. You were so passionate and amazing and I wanted that energy coming at me even if it was only in arguments. I really can't picture a universe where I didn't fall in love with you."

She blushed and smiled, "Me either. And I am glad we were in a universe where we got to be best friends first."

"Oh, yeah. Me too. But, I am just as glad we aren't _just_ friends anymore," he said as he leaned over and kissed her deeply.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

They had been in Australia on their unplanned vacation for several days when Ron and Hermione departed for their first venture out of the city. They were off to visit the magical rock place Ron had suggested. Hermione called it different things – sometimes Ayers Rock and sometimes Uluru, but he hadn't bothered to figure out why ahead of time knowing full well Hermione would give him a more than thorough explanation of everything when they got there. While they had tried to convince George to join them, he'd insisted he was enjoying his time with Rocks at the shop far too much to travel half way across the continent to see a big rock. So, the two of them had packed Hermione's beaded bag with enough for an overnight stay and apperated to the coordinates the Ministry Tourism Office gave them. The first thing Ron noticed was how the color of the dirt was the exact color of his hair. He had never seen anything like it in his life.

"The whole bloody place is ginger!" he laughed.

Hermione smiled at him and then led him around the building where they found the entrance. The Ministry folks had suggested staying overnight at a magical inn near the rock. Apparently part of the charm of the visit was seeing how it magically changed colors throughout the day, and the inn would also allow you to borrow brooms to fly around the rock or out into the desert, which obviously the muggle hotels did not offer.

The room at the inn was like nothing Ron had ever seen. It was clearly an elegant place, with sumptuous linens and pillows all over the fancy bed. But, the bed was on a swivel where it could either be in the room, or quickly rotated to be outside on a porch with no roof. Being as ginger as the soil, Ron could already feel his skin burning slightly in the short time they had been there despite the cool temperature. So, he was not altogether understanding why anyone would sleep out on the porch with no shade.

They quickly applied sun repelling potions and donned large hats and set up to hike around the rock. As they hiked towards it, Ron decided he found the rock fascinating, and the fact that even muggles could sense something magical about it was even more interesting. He wasn't sure what it was, but he could certainly sense his own magic reacting to being in the presence of this place.

"Do you feel that, Hermione?"

"What?"

"I'm not sure, really. It's – well, I don't know how to describe it. I feel like my magic can feel the rock or something. Do you sense it?"

She stood quietly for a few moments, and then crinkled her nose. "I think I can feel it, but it seems really faint – like a heartbeat or something. Is that what you feel?"

"Kind of, yeah. But – I wouldn't say it was faint. I can feel a pretty strong pulse – like a rhythm coming from the rock to right inside me. It's the barmiest thing."

"Fascinating. I wonder why we sense it differently," she mused.

"No clue. We'll have to ask about that I suppose."

"But, it's a good feeling, don't you think?"

Ron smiled and nodded, and they headed along the trail. Eventually Hermione began to tell Ron everything she had managed to read about this area. While he found it mildly interesting that the aboriginal Australians had stories about this place being a source of connection between humans and the creator, he was too busy being comforted by feeling like all was right with the world when Hermione was lecturing him on obscure history that he knew he would never remember. Eventually they found a resting place in the shade of the rock and decided to have lunch. Once they had eaten the sandwiches they brought from the inn and drank enough water to rehydrate from the hike, they just rested together. It wasn't too chilly, but Ron cast a warming charm for good measure.

Ron laid back and stared up at the rock for a while, and then eventually closed his eyes. He wasn't sleeping, but he could feel his magic pulsating through him. The rhythm was so strong it was almost like music he could hear with his ears, and the sensation was like nothing he had ever known. Hermione had also laid down and had her head leaning against his stomach. And, while he knew she had said it was only a faint feeling for her, when she touched him, he had an amplified sense of the feeling. It was as if he could feel his magic pulsating through to her, and then hers coming back to him as if it were a current flowing between them in a complete circle.

He was so focused on this pulsating rhythm, that he jumped a little when Hermione finally spoke, "is it getting stronger for you too, Ron?"

"Yes. But can you feel it flowing between us as well? It's amazing whatever it is."

"Actually I could feel it stronger once I leaned up against you. I can't tell if I am hearing something pulse from within me or if I can hear it pulsing in you."

The two of them lay there in the shade of the rock for what felt like hours letting the feeling pulse through them. Eventually enough time had passed that the sun was now shining on them directly with the late afternoon sun. They decided that they should get up lest they get sunburned. They wanted to head back to the inn and ask about borrowing a broom. They both felt incredibly peaceful but energized as they got up and dusted the ochre dirt off each other before turning to walk back to the inn hand in hand.

Once they returned to the inn, they found two witches behind the counter in the lobby. Hermione asked about borrowing a broom, and the younger witch bustled off to another room to fetch one. As Ron stood with Hermione against the wall waiting on the broom, he heard the older witch speak. She was quite old, with incredibly dark, leathered skin with more wrinkles than anyone Ron had met before. Her skin was tinged red like the earth and was in contrast to her dark black hair that framed her face and eyes that seemed to hold a surprisingly young sparkle.

"You feel it, don't you, young man?"

"Yes, mam. I do. Do you know what it is? It is the strangest sensation."

"My ancestors, the ancient wizards and witches who have been here since the beginning, since before the Europeans arrived, they say that this place was the original source of life and magic. This rock coming out of the desert connected the earth with the whole universe, and in that with the magic of life itself."

"So, what we feel is magic?"

"Well, most don't feel anything."

"No, muggles don't sense that I suppose."

"Not just muggles, dear. Only a few witches or wizards get to feel it. I have felt it before, and I recognize the expression of peace and strength on your face which told me you are feeling it too."

"I don't understand. I feel it quite strongly, but my girlfriend here, she only feels it a tiny bit. What is it? Why is it different for us?"

"Hmm. Very interesting. It is highly unusual that both of you can sense it. That is extremely rare. Unfortunately, why you can both feel it or why you can feel it stronger than she can, I am afraid that is likely to remain a mystery. But, it is said that the ancient magic here can flow into individuals when they most need it. Sometimes when the magic pulses from the earth into your core, it can move things within you. It can strengthen or restore you. It can awaken you to face things you were not ready to face. It can make you understand things you were not ready to know. It can affirm ideas. It can move barriers in you that you were not aware were there. It can sustain you through a great trial. And it can bring great peace. But my great, great grandmother told me it is often given to intuitive or sometimes powerful witches or wizards who need the restorative and regenerative strength it can bring either before a trial or after a great struggle."

"That's incredible," Hermione said quietly.

"It is," smiled the old woman. "I do not know the journey you two have had or have yet to face, but to have the both of you feel it is something very special. I sense you may have had a difficult path to get here, and I am sorry it has not been easy on you. I encourage you to receive the magic as a gift while you are here. Let it flow through you – as individuals and as a couple if you sense the magic that way as well."

"This afternoon we just lay in the shade of the rock and it was so peaceful, and it seemed stronger for both of us when we were touching."

"Almost like meditation," Hermione added.

"Yes, yes, that is good. Let it flow through you. And if you sense an emotion coming forward, let it come. The magic here can push things within you, and it is best to ride it like a breeze or an ocean wave. Allow it to flow freely. Let it take you where you need to be."

"So some people just get to feel it then?"

"Yes, but only when they need it. You could come back here in a few years and not feel anything. It would probably still be flowing through you, many still say they are refreshed when leaving here – even muggles. But to feel it like a pulse, it is a unique gift for a unique wizard at a unique point in time."

"Wow," said Ron. Hermione squeezed his hand.

"Just receive it and allow it to work in you," she said. Then the younger witch came back in with the broom.

"Here you go," the young witch said cheerfully. "This looked like it would be a good fit for the two of you. Be sure to use the disillusioning charms so the muggles don't see you. Enjoy your fly!"

They looked back to the elderly witch to continue their conversation, but she only smiled, nodded and turned to leave the room without a word.

After the couple left the inn to go back outside, Ron asked, "What do you make of all that?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "You know, a few years ago I would have disregarded all of it as divination-like rubbish. But, I did feel it. It wasn't strong, but I felt it. And then when I was touching you by the rock, it was strong. And so peaceful. So, I don't think its rubbish. But, you know me well enough to know I am absolutely reading up on this when we get back."

Ron smiled, "Hah. I would expect nothing less. Now, I am assuming you are ok to come flying with me? I know it's not your favorite thing, but the last few times you were on a broom I think we were escaping imminent death, so this should hopefully be a wee bit less terrifying for you."

"I am definitely coming. As long as you don't get too crazy I will be fine. I trust you."

They quickly grabbed another round of sandwiches, drinks and crisps to take with them and headed out.

"Just hold on tight," he said as they took off gently. He covered them in disillusioning charms so the muggles couldn't see them, and they headed back to the rock.

It was almost sunset, and the rock had now changed to a burning orange color that Ron loved. Ron took a deep breath and concentrated on staying present in that moment. He knew he would never forget that moment – the way the orange rock glowed before him, the cobalt blue sky beginning to tinge with pinks, the freshness of the crisp, arid air flying through his hair, the pulsating magic, the feel of Hermione's arms holding tight to him from behind, her cheek resting between his shoulder blades. It was a moment he knew he could look back on for the rest of his life as one of perfect peace.

They circled the rock, which took quite a while. Finally, Ron landed them on the top of it just as the last bits of the sun set across the desert horizon. Neither of them said a word, and while it looked like a silent scene, Ron realized the rhythm of the magic in him was loud – almost like river rapids filling him completely with the roaring pulsations. It was not scary, but rather lulled him into a further sense of surrender to the moment. They sat perched up on the rock as night came over the land, with Hermione leaning into his chest as they both looked west to the last drops of pink light in the sky. And as before, whenever they were touching the magic coursing through them became even stronger.

At some point Ron felt everything shift from a peaceful, contemplative moment to a raw sense of emotion that overcame him with intense veracity. His mind tried to think of everything and nothing all at once. Fred would never hold the woman he loved as he watched the sun set in the west. Teddy will never hear stories from his Marauder father or laugh at his mum's antics. Harry volunteered to die for all of them and walked alone to his death without saying a fucking word. He had actually tried to save that pitiful Petigrew despite all he had done when his hand turned against him. He had dug a grave by hand for an elf who saved them all. Snape had been a brave and loyal git afterall. He'd seen his mum use the killing curse. Then it occurred to him that he had no idea how many people he himself had killed? And oddly was only vaguely curious. Since when did killing people become something he didn't bother to keep track of? What still did bother him was that he'd been weak and let Voldemort worm his way into his mind. Then he'd abandoned all that mattered to him. But at least he'd found them again. He'd been given forgiveness. And he was trying to accept it. Trying to believe he deserved it. But then he'd had to watch as they took Hermione from him. Had to listen as they tortured her again and again and again. Picked her limp form up from under the chandelier. Landed on the wet sand feeling he had lost her, and with her himself. Felt his life slipping from him when she awoke with nothing but a blank stare in her eyes. That blank stare that would haunt him forever. And the pain of that, the fear of that - the haunted looks on the faces of George and his parents, the howling grief of his other brothers, the lingering darkness he knew Ginny still battled. It was too much. Too much for anyone to bare – let alone him.

At some point amidst his cacophony of thoughts, he was surprised to notice that his face was wet from tears. He felt a bit like a git - not only for crying but for not even realizing he was crying. But before he could even wipe his tears away he heard Hermione speak quietly.

"Don't fight it. Remember what the witch said – surrender to it. Feel it. Let it flow. The magic is doing something you don't even realize you need."

He glanced at her and realized her face was wet with tears as well. And then suddenly it was as if a dam had broken within him. Water was pouring from his eyes, soon followed by sobs from his chest that he hadn't realized were there. Hermione shifted from leaning against his chest and moved to sit behind him. He felt her tiny frame up against his back, with her arms enveloping him. She began to gently rock him and kept repeating, "Just let it go. Just let it come. I've got you."

He sobbed for Fred. He sobbed for George. For his parents, for Teddy and Tonks and Remus. For Collin. For Dumbledore. For Cedric and Sirius. For the horrors he had seen. For what he couldn't prevent. For what he had done. For what he hadn't done. He wept for what could have been and what would never be. He wept for Harry. For the burden he had carried since he was a baby, and what he had been willing to sacrifice for them all. Throughout this he could feel the magic pulsating in him, the roar growing louder to the point of completely drowning out Hermione's voice next to him. All he could feel was Hermione's touch and the magic surging between them.

The pulsating magic that had lulled him before was now pulling the grief through him. He could feel it in every cell of his body. He could see Hermione weeping too, though he wasn't sure if it was in response to his emotion or if she was feeling it as well. This pulsing sadness roared like thunder or maybe a giant waterfall as it poured through him. The flow of the sadness drained him as it coursed through his body. His body wracked with agonizing sobs as he let it run. He continued to choke on his grief as Hermione held him. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it abruptly stopped. The agonizing grief was gone, as if it had flowed through and out of him. He was exhausted – crumpled in Hermione's arms on the top of this dessert rock. Wrung out like a sponge with no strength left. And then it was suddenly silent. He could still feel the pulse, but the roaring, raging grief was done. His tears stopped, and he was again embraced by the peaceful silence.

He had no idea how much time had passed, but it was now completely dark. While it was a warm night for that time of year, it was cold enough up on the rock that they could see their breath. Being so far from electric lights of the muggle cities, the stars appeared infinite across in the heavens above them. The Milky Way hung in a brilliant swath across the sky, and Ron knew he needed to be a part of it. Without speaking, he stood up. He and Hermione stood in a silent embrace for a long time. Eventually, still without words, they got back on the broom. Once she was holding on tightly, they took off and flew in the blackness across the desert to be part of the vastness.

When they eventually got back to their room, they still didn't speak. There was a mystical, comfortable silence between them, and neither wanted to disrupt what felt like a sacred moment. Still in silence, Ron moved the bed out of the room and onto the outdoor porch. They piled on extra blankets, crawled in, curled up together, and fell asleep beneath the stars of the outback facing the darkness where the wondrous rock sat, the magic still flowing and pulsing between them.

As dawn broke the next morning, Ron was amazed by the sight of the formerly orange rock glowing a delicate rose pink. Hermione had also woken, and they snuggled close together, each with noses pink from the cold. They watched silently as life crept back into the desert behind the rose rock. Finally, once the sun was fully in the sky, Ron leaned down to kiss her.

"Thank you," he said in a voice just above a whisper. "Thank you for coming here, for being there through all of that – for everything."

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, and then she curled up to him to snuggle a bit longer. Soon they realized it was too chilly to stay out much longer so they headed back into their room to change and get ready for the day. They each showered, dressed and went down to get breakfast. Ron had a full plate of eggs and sausage while Hermione had a small bowl of porridge. They were speaking again, but both of them only said a few things as they slowly emerged from the near holy silence they had shared.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she finally asked.

"Surprisingly peaceful and well rested," he said. "I'm not saying I understand it all, but I feel pretty good. How about you?"

"The same I think," she said she took her last bites of porridge. "Actually, you know – I am actually feeling pretty hungry."

"Really?" Ron said trying not to sound too eager.

"Well, it's been a while since I felt like I really wanted to eat, but I think that's what this is. So, I think I am going to order some more breakfast if that's ok."

"Hermione! Of course that's ok! It's bloody brilliant!"

"Language, Ronald."

After filling up on two breakfasts each, the couple set off for another hike around the rock. They wanted to spend a little more time lingering in the presence of the magical place before they went back to Sydney.

"Can I ask you something?" said Hermione after they had been sitting awhile.

"Of course. You can always ask me anything."

"Do you have a sense of what last night was?"

"Um," Ron started, "No. I don't know what it was. But, I know what it felt like. It was like all of a sudden I wept for everything we saw, everyone we lost, everyone who lost someone, things I did, things I wished I'd done differently, for things that will never be. It was like my body just took over and went into sadness overdrive. And then all of a sudden it was done. The tears stopped, the pain was gone. Like it had been purged from me somehow. Not that I am not sad about Fred, but it feels different today somehow."

"The witch said the magic could move feelings to the front and could take you where you needed to go."

"Well, I definitely felt like the magic was doing that last night – it was not something I was in control of at all."

"I wonder – you have been so stoic, so strong for everyone since the battle. You've been a rock for everyone to lean against this whole time. I wonder if your body just needed a chance to process the grief that had been stored up – needed a chance to mourn in its own way, and the magic gave you that, and with it a fresher start?"

"Plausible. And what about you – I didn't know if you were crying for the same reasons I was or if it was because I was basically dissolving in front of you. And, you did just eat more food in one sitting that I think I've ever witnessed – so maybe the magic helped that too? What do you make of it?"

"Well, all I can say is that this place is like no other. And, I am not sure I understand what has happened here, and maybe it has changed us in some ways we don't even realize yet. I know that last night I was feeling immensely peaceful, and then as we sat there I just felt something shift, and I realized that I was crying. And then I looked back to you and you were crying too, and then it just went from there. Not so much crying because I was sad, but crying because my body or spirit or magic or whatever it was needed the release I suppose. And who knows – maybe it can help me heal physically too. I don't want to count on it, but I am definitely not dismissing it either. I know we both needed to come here – each of us individually as well as come together. It has changed us for the better, don't you think?"

"Absolutely. Just don't ask me to explain it to anyone else. I am not sure anyone who hasn't been here could possibly get it. Hell, I've been here, and I am not sure I get it. They would simply think we're mental and try to find us a room with Lockhart back at St. Mungos."

"Oh my goodness. Do you think he would still try to give us all those signed pictures like he did when we were there that Christmas? At least he has his ego to keep him company I suppose."

Ron laughed, and took a sip of his tea. "I'm wondering something else too."

"About Lockhart?"

"No, not about Lockhart," he laughed. "I can kind of understand the magic from the rock or the creator or the universe impacting us both, but what do you make of how it felt when we were touching? How it sort of flowed through the two of us…do you understand it or have any idea how it maybe affected us together?"

Hermione considered Ron's question for a moment before she finally said, "Well, I can come up with multiple theories. But in truth I don't know if any of them are any good."

"Care to share any of them?"

"Well, I think they fall into three main thoughts. My first thought is that maybe magic is like muggle electricity, and that when there is a closed circuit, so to speak – you and I touching when we are both experiencing the pulsing magic, that it just flows faster somehow, so we sense that. But, I have to admit, it doesn't address why it felt stronger, because if you consider basic arithmancy concepts the total shouldn't be more than the sum of its parts."

"Ok, I guess I follow that – you know, minus the muggle electrical principles and advanced arithmancy, but 1+1 can't be more than 2, I can understand that."

Hermione laughed, "Ok. Then, my second idea is that the magic sort of just understands what is needed, and maybe last night we both needed to be present and assist the other one to heal in whatever way was needed." She paused, and then crinkled her nose, "but that seems a bit pre-destined for my taste I suppose."

"Alright, predestination is maybe out. What's your last theory, then?"

"Well, this one's a bit touchy-feely if I do say so myself. But, maybe if you think of us – our relationship I mean - as one entity instead of as two separate parts, you could think of the magic flowing through the two of us as working the same way as it would in an individual."

"You've lost me – what do you mean?"

"Well, the witch yesterday said that the flowing or pulsating magic might help you understand something you weren't ready to understand before, or could give you strength or move emotions to a different surface within you. What if that is true for us as a couple? I mean I would think it's rather unusual for a couple to start off having had the type of history you and I have had."

"I would think being best friends is a good foundation for a relationship."

"Oh, I think it is. But, maybe the transition from 'just' friends to more isn't an easy one. Especially since it is on top of going through the ridiculously insane experience we've just had, and grieving the many losses we've faced, and healing from the traumas we've endured. And then on top of that, throw in the fact that you and I are forever a part of a trio. How do we change from being two parts of 'The Golden Trio' to being Ron and Hermione, soon to be lovers and yet each still best friends with Harry Potter."

Ron laughed. "I was getting really depressed right up until you described us as soon to be lovers," he said as he leaned across to kiss her.

She playfully smacked him saying, "I've told you I'd be ready soon."

"I know, I'm just teasing. Well, mostly. But, everything else you said was rather overwhelming. It makes it sound like we are up against an insurmountable mountain of challenges."

"Well, we are. But, don't you think that's something we've got some experience with?"

"I guess. But we are both still rather drained from the last mountain of insurmountable crap, don't you think?"

"Language, Ron. And, yes, that is exactly my point. So – yes, we are totally drained, and both of us are somewhat broken in our own way. But, maybe something in the way the magic flowed through us was healing, or strengthening not only for us as individuals, but us as a couple. Maybe this excursion has just helped us along that transition. I mean, I don't have it all figured out yet. But, I certainly feel more at peace about it all."

"I definitely agree with that. I feel more at peace this morning than, well – I can't even remember. And I don't know how it will all work either. But, I know I am actually kind of excited to find out."

"Me too," she grinned.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

It had been several days since they returned to Sydney. George had been spending every day with Rocks at the joke shop while Ron and Hermione spent their time exploring the city. Both Ron and Hermione observed that there was a noticeable difference in George's eyes since they had been in Australia. It couldn't quite be described as a smile, but it was at the very least a glimmer of potential. It wasn't as if he was his old self, and he probably wouldn't be again. But, Rocks was certainly helping George find his way to his new self. They'd been excited when George had asked if they wanted to join he and Rocks for dinner one night.

Ron was looking forward to their dinner that evening as they were going to meet the two pranksters on Declan Row after the shop closed. Not only did it promise to be entertaining, but it would be a chance to get to know Rocks a bit more. He was thrilled that someone was helping his brother in ways he couldn't, but he was really curious to see the two of them interacting. While he knew George wasn't trying to replace Fred with Rocks, he had never seen his brother want to spend so much one on one time with anyone – including himself – aside from Fred. And, as Rocks was old enough to be their grandfather, he still had some trouble picturing their relationship.

In addition to looking forward to seeing their dinner companions, Ron was over the moon being out on what felt like a proper date night with Hermione, who looked stunning. She had worn a skirt that sort of flowed when she walked and a top that was more form fitting than she usually wore. She was still too skinny, but somehow the outfit she had on made her look curvier in all the right places. Her hair was down, and the evening breeze was gently blowing her curls around her face like a perfect frame. As he walked down Declan Row with Hermione on his arm, he caught their reflection in one of the shop windows and actually did a double take for a moment realizing the gorgeous woman he saw was with him.

They arrived at the restaurant to find George and Rocks already sitting at a round table in the back corner. Rocks' face lit up as they came to the table.

"Hermione, my dear, come sit by me. It has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of having dinner with such a beautiful woman!"

Hermione blushed and went to sit next to Rocks.

Ron laughed but couldn't let it pass. "Watch it there, Rocks. I had to wait a long to time to call her my lady, so you're going to have to find your own!"

Rocks laughed and held his hands up in playful surrender.

"Took you a long time, huh, Ron?"

"I'd say, Rocks. It took my idiot brother seven years to get his act together."

"Seven years! You're joking!"

"Unfortunately not," Ron blushed. "But, in my defense – I am the only one here with a gorgeous witch at my side, so you two tossers don't have much of a leg to stand on."

Rocks laughed and conceded the point. They all quickly fell into conversation about the different products George and Rocks had been working on that week at the shop. George was particularly animated talking about a delayed sparks product that would produce some controlled chaos, but with plenty of time to plant the charm and leave the scene to observe from afar. He and Rocks took turns completing each other's sentences as they painted a picture of the potential uses of such a product. George was loving the idea of enabling students everywhere to have a smaller version of the sparkling departure he and Fred had when they left Hogwarts. Rocks could hardly believe that the story George had told him about the experience was real. But, he was soon laughing so hard he was crying as Ron and Hermione described the scene and went into great details about the reactions of the various professors once the mischievous duo had departed on their brooms.

"It really is fantastic to know there are prankster pairs in every generation to ensure that the world doesn't take itself too seriously," Rocks said as they all got themselves under control.

"You think there really are, Rocks?" George asked.

"Well, I guess I like to believe so, anyway. They might not all be born on April Fools like you and Fred, and they might not all be twins, but there are absolutely kindred spirits in every generation who connect and work to curate some comedic chaos in the world around them. And we, my young friend, seem to be lucky enough to have not only been parts of those pairs – even if for too short of a time– but we also are entrusted with passing along the trickster knowledge and encouraging the creative hijinks of future generations. Even when our own lives have been far from humorous, people like us have to still stoke the humor in the world around us, even if our own spark has been forever dampened by our losses, we are still responsible for encouraging those flames."

George nodded in agreement, with damp eyes but not tears.

Hermione reflected, "Wow, Rocks. I had never thought about it that way. You know, until this past year, I never really appreciated the importance that laughter played in my life – or in anyone's life really. When you spend most of the year with one of those – what did you call them? Prankster pairs? I guess you begin to take it for granted. And, if I am being totally honest, there were many times I didn't quite appreciate it at all."

Ron and George smirked at her confession, but didn't interrupt.

"But then last year," Hermione continued. "Well, it was extremely difficult. And I wasn't just away from Fred and George, but for a while I found myself separated from everything light and joyful in my life." At this, she caught Ron's eye and squeezed his leg under the table before continuing. "But, once that light came back into my life, I realized how starved I had become for joy and laughter, and how much better my life is with it in it."

Ron smiled at her, took her hand and kissed it.

"Oh please, Ronniekins, spare us the snogging show."

"Ah, knock it off George. As your brother mentioned, he's the only bloke here tonight who has himself a date. So, maybe we need to be taking notes instead of harassing him."

"Appreciate the sentiment, Rocks, but I have a duty as an older brother to be as annoying as possible. And, Fred would never forgive me if I didn't continue to seize every opportunity to do so. Especially when it comes to him and the illustrious Ms. Granger."

Ron's ears turned red, but Hermione just laughed and said, "Yeah, Fred would have totally harassed you for that." And at that, everyone grinned and laughed as well.

The evening continued with great tales of the adventures of the two sets of twins, and the greatest pranks in their respective careers. There were even a few Hermione and Ron hadn't been aware of that they were amusedly aghast to discover were the results of the twins. Before long, it was time to help Rocks floo home. As they returned to their hotel after the dinner, Ron noticed that his sides actually hurt from laughing so hard.

"You know," Hermione said to the brothers as she kicked her heels off as they entered the hotel room, "I can't even remember the last time I laughed that much in one night."

"Rocks is pretty amazing, isn't he?" said George.

"Yes, he is. But I think you're pretty amazing too, George," Hermione replied. "You and Fred got up to just as much mischief as Rocks and Al. You guys came up with some amazing stuff. Stuff I find even more amazing now that I am off my prefect high horse."

"Glad at least one of us got to live long enough to hear you say that. So glad you've come around, Hermione."

"Yes, I suppose Fred is giving me a big old 'I told you so' right now from somewhere, and I deserve it."

"Can't argue with you there, my lady," George smiled.

"Alright, boys, I am taking a shower and heading to bed. Goodnight," said Hermione as she headed off to the bedroom.

As she left, George said, "Thanks for coming tonight, Ron. Meant a lot to me."

"Of course, George. It was a fantastic night. Rocks is incredible. And, well, for me I think the best part was that it felt like the first time I've been able to talk about Fred and tell stories about you two without feeling like I was breaking some sort of taboo. I am pissed as hell and devastated he's not here. But I don't want to be sad when I think of him. And I don't want to avoid talking about him. It is just against everything his life was about. He was fucking funny, and I loved laughing about him again tonight."

George was quiet for a moment, and then said, "Right after the battle, it was just too raw and painful to talk at all. Hell, I don't even remember his funeral, though I am sure I was probably there. I think I was numb and blocked it out or something. But then everyone would sit around the house, and people would tell these stories like Fred was a damn angel or something. How he was perfect and a hero. But that was all a story. It had _nothing_ to do with Fred. I think I understand now that it helped people – especially Mum – get through those first days. But, that wasn't him. Hell, we turned your teddy bear into a spider. We tormented you for years. We tested all of our vomiting creations on first years who didn't know any better, and we laughed about it. A lot. He was far from a saint. And the only thing that made him a hero was because he went and got himself killed because he was too busy laughing at Percy's damn joke instead of watching his own arse. But damn, I loved him. He understood me like no one else. I don't have any memories of life without him. He was funny as hell, braver than anything and knew how to get me to do shit I couldn't do on my own. He understood me better than I do."

He paused a moment, but Ron just stayed silent.

"Coming here, meeting Rocks – he's shown me how I can talk about him again. How I can remember him as an individual, and remember us as a duo, and celebrate what a fucking amazing thing I got to be a part of for a little while. Do you know, Rocks is the first person who has ever asked me to describe how Fred was different than me?"

Ron smiled at this. "How'd you answer that?"

"Well, I mean – before I lost my damn ear there were only a handful of people who could tell us apart. You, Gin, Lee, Angelina and Hermione. That's it! In the whole damn world. Mum and Dad couldn't. Harry couldn't. Our older brothers definitely couldn't. But when Rocks asked me about it – he didn't just ask about our personalities. He asked about how we worked together – about what I was good at and what Fred was good at. Do you know I had never really thought about it before? I had always thought about what _we_ were good at. But, Rocks helped me see that _I_ was the one who was really good at coming up with the crazy ideas and figuring out the charms and potions and what not. But Fred – he was the one who worked out the logistics of all of it. He figured out how to buy property. How to legally structure our business. How to set prices, and find suppliers and distributers. I don't know any of that shit."

"Really? I mean, I always knew you were the more creative one, but I didn't know he had done all that on his own."

"Yeah. He did. Rocks said I should be ok because it's harder to find someone to develop the products that it is to find someone who can do all the business stuff. Being here, seeing Rocks' shop – I can get excited about it again. I can see how opening the shop back up is what I want to do – but I have no idea how to do it. I don't know how to do any of that shit. I'm bullocks at numbers and money. I can't think like a strategic businessman. I just come up with cool crap. I don't know which cool crap is better to sell than other cool crap."

Ron paused a moment before saying, "I've had an idea about that, actually. I just didn't know when to bring it up."

"Really? You know someone?"

"Well, possibly. I was thinking maybe _I_ could help out for a while. I'm shite at potions and only marginally better at charms, but numbers, strategy, plans, sales patterns- that I can do. Well, and Defense. But hopefully we wouldn't need those skills."

"What? I thought Kinglsey had offered you and Harry a fast track ramp to become aurors?"

"He did. He offered it to us as well as Hermione and Neville. Harry's taking it, but I am turning it down. At least for now."

"Why? You can't turn down your dream job to be a shop clerk selling pygmy puffs. Forget what Mum would say, Hermione would kill me. Probably in a horribly creative and painful manner."

"Well, I don't know about Mum. But, Hermione already knows it's what I want to do, and she's really supportive of it. Look – this isn't just about helping you out, though admittedly that is a great bonus. To say it was a rough year is a tremendous understatement. Physically, mentally – all of it. I am exhausted, and the idea of immediately jumping into a life where it is all about chasing bad guys and constantly looking over my shoulder for dark wizards – I can't do it right now. I always thought I wanted to be an auror because it sounded cool and I didn't think I would suck at it. But honestly, now I am not sure. I may want to do it in a few years, and Kingsley said the offer would stand if I wait. But, for now – I need a break from sleeping with one eye open."

George was gobsmacked. "You're serious? You'd be willing to put off your dream to help me out?"

"George – even if I didn't need some time away from chasing dark wizards, which I desperately do – yeah, I would put it off to help you out. You're my brother. And this shop was the dream you and Fred shared. I want to see it succeed too. Now, I don't know everything he did, and it will take me a while to figure it all out. But, Fred and I always were pretty similar in what came easy to us, although he never could beat me at chess."

"That always pissed him off, you know?"

"I know," Ron grinned.

"Wow, ok. This could actually work."

"But you're totally paying me, you know."

"Oh, I know. But I'm the boss."

"Fair enough. But only at work, you wanker."

George winked at him. "Today at the shop Rocks mentioned his friend in Perth again. While part of me wants to spend every day with Rocks that I can, I am thinking I should take his friend up on the offer to spend a few days in his shop too."

"I think it's a great idea. Seeing different approaches to how to do things can only be beneficial in the end. And I think you and Rocks will stay tight long after we fix things with Hermione's parents. Taking a few days away from that will be ok in the long haul."

"Good – I'll talk to his friend tomorrow and try to set it up for the following day. You two think you'll be ok here, you know – without my chaperoning services?"

Ron laughed. "Yeah – I'm sure we'll manage without you for a few days. After this weekend we'll hopefully be busy with her parents, so maybe a few days on our own before the impending storm will be a good thing."

"Ok, then. Well, you two lovebirds have your fun now, because rumor has it your new boss is a task master, so you're going to be hopping when you get back to England."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

It was early Friday morning when George headed out for Perth. The plan was for him to be back late the next evening. They expected Hermione's parents to return from New Zealand on Saturday night, so they were to meet with the Australian Ministry Sunday morning to review the plans and then go to the Grangers' home and restore their memories. Ron and George privately agreed that even if everything went perfectly on Sunday, they would still probably be there another week or so while the Grangers tied up their affairs, so George should still have plenty of time with Rocks the following week. And that was IF it went well. But for now her parents were in New Zealand, George was in Perth and Ron had a surprise planned for Hermione, but was a bit nervous how she would react.

"So," he said right after George had left, "do we have anything we have to do today?"

"No, not really," she said. "Is there anything you had in mind?"

"Well, yes – I do have an idea, but I was thinking it could be a bit of a surprise. Are you up for it?"

"Sure, though it certainly feels like you are up to something."

"Nothing nefarious," he grinned. "Just that I actually made a reservation for this earlier, and now I'm just happy I don't have to cancel it."

"Well, alright then. Do I need anything in particular?"

Ron just smiled. "Give me your beaded bag and ten minutes, and I'll make sure we have everything we need."

Despite her arched eyebrow, Ron scampered into the bedroom and grabbed hats, towels and sun potion. He threw in some water bottles and his swim trunks. He hesitated as he pulled Hermione's drawer open and found two bathing suits. He grinned, and grabbed the small bikini he couldn't even believe she owned instead of the one piece he knew she had. He bet Ginny had put than in her bag without her even realizing it. Hermione could fuss at him later, and he would still be happy, he thought with a smirk. He threw in some sandals and a cover up so she could wear it over the bikini if she was really mad at him.

He found her waiting for him in the living room and looking at him with a hint of suspicion.

"Ready?" he asked with a grin.

"I guess so," she laughed, "since I have no idea where we are going. And you seem unusually happy."

"I am just excited about this," he laughed. "And I am hoping you'll think it's as great as I do once we get there."

"Alright" she said as she took his hand. With a smile, he disapperated them away from the hotel.

They arrived in sand, and they both squinted at the extremely bright sun reflecting on the ocean. Ron thought back to the last time he had disapperated with her and landed in the sand, and he thanked whatever power there may be that allowed them to make it through that experience.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked trying to take in her surroundings.

"Well, we are up in the northern part of the country and just around the other side of this building, we will find a boat waiting for us that will take us out to see the Great Barrier Reef."

"Really?" she squealed.

"Yes, really," he laughed. "The boat will take us out, and then we can snorkel around the coral and see whatever one sees in a reef. Our suits are in the bag, along with summer clothes for later, sun potion and all the stuff we'll need out on the boat. It's a wizard owned tour boat company that I saw a flyer for back at The Ministry, so we don't even have to hide our wands or anything."

"Ron, this is fantastic!"

"Come on, let's go check in and we can change at the office."

Ron checked them in, and Hermione took the bag to go get changed. She was a bit flushed when she came back out of the office with the cover up on.

"Think you're clever, do you?" she asked with a half-smile.

Knowing his ears were beet red he grinned back, "Oh right now I'm pretty sure I know _exactly_ how clever I am."

"Hmm. We shall see, Ronald Weasley. I have my eye on you."

"Well, with that bikini on, my love, you can be sure I'll have both my eyes on you." He laughed as he jumped out of the way of her playful smack and then ducked out to change as well.

Once they were both in suits they made their way out to the beach. Since it was a magical company, they simply disapperated onto the boat that was anchored just beyond the breaking waves. Ron was grateful that the man he spoke with at the check in desk said he'd done as Ron had asked when he made the reservation and warned the folks on the boat about Hermione's scar on her arm and asked them to pretend they didn't see anything. He didn't want anything to dampen their great day out.

On board they found a middle aged couple. The wizard was the boat captain who gave Ron a knowing nod and smile while his wife was his assistant and the designated "hostess with the mostest" on board. She welcomed them warmly, let them know to help themselves to the cold drinks and fruit they had on board, and told them they were heading off to go to a part of the reef that was particularly colorful at this time of year. She reminded them to put on sun potion and wear hats, though, she noted that most of their European tourist customers usually ignored her and left sun-burned.

Ron pulled the potion out of the beaded bag, and applied it to everywhere he could reach, and asked Hermione to get his back. She rubbed the lotion over his shoulders and back, which was driving Ron slightly mad, so he tried to keep his mind on the fish they were going to see. But then she took off her cover up and he saw her in the tiny black bikini, and he almost forgot why they were there. She laughed at him, pecked him on the cheek with a grin and said, "Your idea, Ronald, your idea."

"Right," he said as he took the lotion from her and started massaging it into her skin. Then he whispered into her ear as he rubbed her lower back, "it just proves that maybe I am not out of my league being with the most brilliant witch of our age."

She turned her head and kissed him tenderly, and then they curled up on the side of the boat, squeezing into the one corner of shade on the boat enjoying the ride out to the reef. Once they got there, the witch gave them the choice between muggle snorkel equipment or some gillyweed. They both laughed at this and agreed that gillyweed was definitely the way to go.

As Ron gagged on the slimy greens he wondered how Harry could have possibly gotten them down back as a third year. Hermione's expression made him think she felt the same. But, soon they both downed the greens and quickly flopped into the water. The witch had advised them to not swim too far from the boat, as there were predators in the water, and that if they stayed within view of the boat they'd watch out for them. As soon as Ron got his bearings and realized he could in fact breathe under the sea, he was overcome by the beauty around him. Hermione was beaming as she took it all in. They swam towards the coral structures and skimmed by what felt like millions of gem colored fish. As they darted and swam in the water, Ron decided it felt almost like flying on a broom since they weren't held by gravity or the need to surface for air. They felt weightless and free, and they both seemed to delight in the whole experience.

Eventually it was time to return to the boat as their gillyweed was wearing off. They swam back up, and soon transformed back to their regular selves. Hermione insisted they reapply the sun potion and then they sat in the sun and dried off as the boat headed back to shore.

Once back on land, they found a muggle restaurant overlooking the sea where they could refuel and sit in the shade while still sitting on a covered deck that allowed the ocean breezes to cool them. They had burgers and cold drinks and took in the beautiful view. Their waiter had suggested a trail that wove along the beach and in and out of an interesting forest of palms and unique rock formations, so they took his advice and headed that way for a hike before they returned to the city.

"What a perfect day this has been," mused Hermione as she reached for Ron's hand. "I know we've only been here for like six hours, but something about the warm sun, ocean breeze and the sound of the waves just calms me."

"I know. It's brilliant. I mean, we have waves and breeze back home. Even sunshine sometimes, but nothing like this."

"Right. People flock to the British Isles for many things, but sunny, beach vacations usually isn't one of them."

He grinned back at her, and they walked quietly for a bit until they found an area of rocky shore where there were tidal pools teeming with all sorts of sea life that were stranded there until the tide came back in.

They were hopping from rock to rock looking at the crabs and small fish in the various nooks and cranies.

"Oh, this poor little one got stuck in a different pool than the rest of his school of fish," Hermione said as she crouched down to look at a small iridescent blue fish frantically looking for a way out of the small crevice he was stuck in. Just next to them was a much larger tidal pool with a huge school of the same tiny blue fish.

When Ron didn't reply she looked up at him, and was surprised to see how he had suddenly clenched his jaw and seemed to be a million miles away.

"Ron?" she asked softly, standing back up. "Are you alright?"

He didn't really reply, or even act like he heard her speak. But then he quickly had his wand out, levitating the little fish over to the larger pool. Once he had reunited the fish, he seemed to snap out of the trance he had been in, but still didn't answer the question. So, Hermione tried again as she approached him, gently laying her hand on his arm.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?" he said as if nothing had happened.

"I asked you a question, but you seemed to be somewhere else altogether. Are you quite alright? Do we need to get you out of the sun for a bit?"

Ron looked surprised for a moment and then looked back at the tidal pool.

"I just..." his voice faded and once again his eyes blurred so that it looked like he was seeing something else completely.

"Ronald," Hermione said in a strong voice as she shook his arm slightly, bringing him back to the present moment.

"Sorry, I just...I just couldn't stand to see him cut off like that. It was too much like...Well – it was just too much."

Hermione sighed, sliding her hand into his and tugging him over to a large rock to sit in the shade with her. Once they sat she wrapped her arm around the back of his waist and nestled into him some before saying anything.

"I think it's time," she finally said. "I think you need to tell me about that night."

"Which night?"

"You know very well which one," she said in an unamused tone.

"I thought you said Fleur filled in a lot of the missing pieces."

"That's not the night we're talking about."

Ron said nothing, but picked up a small stone and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Hermione just watched him, but said nothing.

"Nothing was worse than listening to you be tortured, Hermione," he said in a gravely whisper.

She let the waves fill the air for a moment before she said, "I know. And I am still so sorry you had to endure that. I know it was worse than living it, which is was partly why I was so relieved she didn't take you up on your offer. I don't think I could have handled it. But, you don't blame yourself for that. I want you to tell me about the other night."

He closed his eyes and ran his hand though his hair while still rubbing the stone. "It's been such a nice day off from everything. Don't you want to wait and do this another time?"

"Nice try," she said firmly but lovingly. "I am learning the hard way that most of the time the best way forward is often straight through the difficult part, not pretending it isn't there, no matter how attractive that idea sounds. You know when I went to see McGonagall, and she asked why I hadn't seen a healer. I had to be honest with her. I told her because I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Pretending it was all going to be fine seemed easier than possibly learning something awful. But, she was right, as usual. Knowledge is power. I'm still frail. I'm still in the same situation medically. But, I am not stuck thinking of the million things that could be wrong. Instead I put my energy into solving the actual problem in front of me. All last year we floundered because we didn't know what we were looking for. But, it seems to me that you know darn well the night that haunts you. And I think we should talk about it instead of pretending everything is fine."

He sighed and looked at her, shaking his head half in appreciation and half in defeat. "You really are a pain in my arse sometimes," he said with a bit of a lopsided grin.

"Hmm," she said, lips pursed together in an expression Ron thought reminded him disturbingly of McGonagall. "I am not going to take the bait and fight about your _highly_ inappropriate use of language, Ronald. You are trying to trick me into changing the subject, and it isn't going to work."

"Had to fall for the brightest witch, didn't I," he muttered under his breath, earning him a pinch in his side. "OK, OK – no need to get violent," he said. "We can talk about it. I mean, you already know what happened. I was a total idiot, left, got caught by the snatchers and then when I escaped I couldn't get back. But, eventually I did and pulled Harry out of the lake and we killed that horcrux with the sword."

"Ok," she said patiently. "Tell me about the snatchers. I don't think I even know how many there were or if there were other prisoners."

Ron stared out at the ocean and then back at the pool of blue fish, and then he closed his eyes, remembering that awful night. And slowly the story came tumbling out.

Sometimes he couldn't explain things, and some parts felt mixed up and backwards, but he really did want her to know so he did the best he could to just keep going until he thought he had everything out.

He had been so worn down by the damn locket that so much of the time leading up to it was still hazy in his mind. The roar of the locket had been back in his ears again, along with the pounding in his head as it always did when he wore it. The locket had hung around his neck like a lead weight while his stomach had continued to growl in unrelenting hunger. They'd overheard the news about Ginny, and he was still reeling at the idea of his baby sister in danger. He'd been able to get by convincing himself she was safe at Hogwarts, but learning she was being treated cruelly by Snape had made him physically ill.

He remembered hearing Hermione and Harry arguing about what to do next and thinking they'd done nothing but argue for weeks. Why should this be any different? But he remembered realizing they seemed to be think this was some sort of breakthrough while he could do nothing but feel the rage and fear rise inside him. He could still hear the bitter thoughts that had run through his head. _Why the fuck hadn't Dumbledore told him how to find and kill the horcruxes before this mission anyway? And why did they seem excited to learn they could kill it with basilisk venom on the Sword of Gryffindor?_ The only place they'd known to look for it was now clearly holding a fake. So, unless they happened upon a basilisk or Harry managed to pull the sword out of his arse again, they weren't any further along than they were before except to learn that Ginny was in danger.

It had seemed so simple and obvious to him. He was baffled that they couldn't see that if they'd just take a few days, go to his family and get some food and check on everyone that they'd be in a better position to figure all of this out. He'd shared his family with them, and now they didn't even care enough to see if they were still alive. They had been utterly useless in the woods and had been getting nowhere. He'd trusted Harry to have some sort of plan, but suddenly it was if he just realized how ridiculous it all was. And he was instantly convinced they were just going to starve out in the tent, and he would never know what happened to his family. And the combination of fear, anger, rage and helplessness just boiled over until he could see nothing but the intensity of it all.

Suddenly he'd heard shouting, but it took a few moments to realize it had been coming out of his own mouth. Looking back he still couldn't quite explain it. It had been so strange – almost like an out of body experience. The voice had been his. The thoughts had come from him. But, he wasn't even truly aware of what he had been saying.

But then he thought he heard Harry tell him to leave and thought _What the buggering fuck? How's that for gratitude?_ But then he had looked to Hermione and – well – he couldn't actually remember what she had said or how he had responded. All he could remember was hearing this incredible roaring in his ears, as if it was drowning everything out. And he could practically still hear that voice in his head – the one he would hear again later coming from the locket. _Did you really think she would choose you? This brilliant, beautiful witch would never even think of loving you, Ron Weasley. Of course she is staying. She loves him, not you. You've been a fool to ever think you had a chance. They think you're a fool too. You're a poor, ugly, stupid fool who is nothing but a third wheel. Unloved and unwanted. They probably set this whole thing up just to get rid of you to begin with._ And then he snapped. He thought he could make the whole situation a lot simpler by getting the hell out of there. Harry had screamed at him to leave the horcrux. Ron cringed as he remembered thinking _Well, no shite you dumb fuck. Good riddins. Can't take it off fast enough_. He'd ripped it from his neck and chucked it to the ground. He remembered looking at Hermione and wondering why she was screaming. He was doing her a favor. He was getting out of the way. He could give her this last thing to make it easy for them. He wouldn't be the third wheel. He'd bow out and make a graceful exit so she could be with Harry. Then, his head pounding, his ears roaring, he turned to disapperate, only catching the anguished terror in her eyes as he'd disappeared before her. And in that last second he remembered being both so hurt and so sad that he couldn't be the one to help her.

But then in the next instant his head had hit the ground as he fell, the smell of rotting leaves on the floor of the wood assaulted his nose. And for one blissful moment it was silent. There had been no roaring; no pounding; no bellowing barrage of dark thoughts. He'd taken a deep breath and immediately started to think clearer. What had he just done? Had he really left them? What would they think? He would just quickly try to get word of his family and find some food and then find them again. Then they would see he was right. With food and some encouraging news he just knew they would all think clearer.

He'd stood up to shake the leaves off and heard voices shouting from behind him. He'd looked quickly to see if it was Harry following him, but then his heart sunk as he realized it was a band of thugs attacking him. He'd started sprinting, but had tripped over a log, fallen to the ground and had been immediately overcome by the group of snatchers.

They were more of a gang of brutes instead of skilled wizards, and so they'd used their talents to beat the living daylights out of him. He'd tried to convince them he was Stan Shunpike, but then everything was black after that. Somewhere in there he'd been knocked unconscious, tied up and leaned against a log. When he had woken up, it was almost dusk the next day. He remembered slowly regaining awareness and then having a sudden jolt of adrenaline as he realized he was tied, bound and wandless. But, he'd realized he needed to stay still and pretend to sleep to buy time.

He remembered how the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him focused as the gang continued to argue over what to do, whether to believe his story about being Stan Shunpike or whether he could be someone worth turning in to The Ministry. He'd forced himself to control his breath, he tried to calm himself and think clearly. _This is a chess match_ , he'd told himself. _It's just chess_. _I can win a chess match against these thick dimwits_. _Just look for the opening. Wait for them to make a bad move._ Despite his throbbing headache and aching back and shoulders, he'd stayed alert the whole night, listening to every word. Their conversations had rambled, but he'd discovered that saying Voldemort's name was now a taboo. As much as he had been horrified, he remembered thinking that he had to give it to the dark lord psychopath. It had actually been a pretty clever move. Harry and Dumbledore had been the only people he'd ever known who had been comfortable saying his name with no concern at all. And with Dumbledore gone, it was a slick way to find Harry. And realizing that made him even more desperate to get back to them immediately to warn them.

He remembered sitting there in the dark. He'd been on the trampled-down grass propped against a log a bit back from where they had a campfire. There weren't other prisoners, but from the pile of wands he saw next to his pack on the ground he'd realized there had been. Whether they were released, turned in or killed he had no idea. He was stuck there on the ground for hours, and he remembered studying the wands he could see trying to figure out if he recognized any from his school friends. But, nothing looked familiar.

His back ached from the position he was tied in. They'd had him with his feet and arse on the ground, knees bent with is arms on each side of his legs and pulled forward to his feet. There his ankles and wrists had been bound in one rope – but strangely they had secured it manually, not with a sticking charm. Slowly and silently he had begun to loosen the rope and work the knots. He even remembered chuckling to himself thinking that finally all those years of being chased and caught and yes, tied up, by Fred and George were paying off. He'd even bitten back a grin thinking that the twins were way better than these bozos. And once the ropes were loose and only hanging over his wrists and ankles he'd simply waited for the right moment.

During the wait he'd had time to think. Probably too much time. He remembered wondering why he had left in the first place and thinking he was such a git. He'd realized that once he'd had a few hours away from the locket, he was already breathing easier and thinking clearer. That thing was evil and full of dark magic, but he now understood that for some reason it affected him worse than the others. He'd been clear enough to realize that Voldemort was simply trying to break them apart, and clearly he'd been the weakest link. But then he'd thought, _Well, well done arsehole. It worked. But it wouldn't last_. He thought that as soon as he could reach his wand he would go back. He would apologize. They would both be angry, but they would forgive him. They both knew how stressful this situation was and how much that locket fucked with their minds. If anyone could understand how it felt to have your mind hijacked, it was Harry. They would absolutely forgive him. He'd known he would have to grovel a lot, but he'd really thought it would be ok. And even if it wasn't, he had to get back to tell them about the taboo. And he hoped he could convince them that they shouldn't wear the locket anymore. They could take turns guarding it, but wearing it was simply too dangerous.

He'd known getting rid of the ropes wasn't enough to get him free as the only thing the snatchers had left in his pocket was the ever entertaining but at the point seemingly useless deluminator. He had needed his wand. And, since it was next to his backpack he hoped he could grab them both and go. But all he could do was wait for the right moment. He needed some opportunity where he could have 60 maybe 90 seconds to grab his wand and pack and run to the edge of the field and disapperate.

He'd pretended to be asleep all night, but his eyes had remained cracked and his ears alert. They'd kept two men on watch at all times, but as the night had stretched into the early hours of the morning he'd realized that one of the men had fallen asleep, leaving only one for him to handle. He'd inched toward his wand and while the man looked the other way, he'd grabbed at the pile of wands seizing his and a few others with one hand and his rucksack with the other. He was just starting to turn to run when the one man on watch had seen him and shot some spells his way but missed, and everyone else was too slow to wake up. He had sprinted to the edge of the field and turned to disapperate back to the tent to find Hermione and Harry.

Panting as he had landed, he bent over to catch his breath putting his hands on his knees. But, then he saw all of the blood on his hands and had realized that he'd splinched himself. Cursing himself and his inability to master the skill he'd called out for them _Guys – it's me. I'm back, but I'm splinched! Hermione? Harry? Help!_

For a moment Ron couldn't keep telling the story. Hermione rubbed his back silently in soft circles and nuzzled into his shoulder trying to remind him that it was ok. He'd made it and it was only a memory now. Eyes damp but jaw and gaze fixed at the ocean before them, he took a shaky breath and began to tell her about that crushing moment. That moment where his world had stopped.

He had lifted his head from his bleeding hands to look for them and in an instant his whole world came to a crashing halt. He had stopped screaming as if the forest had silenced him. He had looked in every direction and saw absolutely nothing but trees, leaves and dirt. He was alone in the wood. For a moment he'd tried to hope that he'd gone to the wrong place, but he knew he hadn't. And then as his eyes had adjusted, he'd seen where the leaves had been crushed – where the tent had been. Where they had been. And where they no longer were.

He'd dashed around the former campsite looking for any clue on where they might have been headed but found nothing. Not one bloody clue. They'd gone, and he had failed them utterly.

The realization had hit him like a physical blow, and he'd staggered as he fell back against a tree. Sliding down against it as he'd slipped to the ground, the agony of his desertion began washing over him in unceasing waves. He'd held his face in his bloody hands and simply wept.

He could not believe what he had done or who he had become.

Looking back now he really couldn't remember how long he cried in grief against that tree. He had never felt more alone or more worthless in his entire life. They had always been a trio. They had always worked as a threesome. He had been blessed with the two most amazing friends known to anyone. And, one happened to be chosen to take on all evil and the other he happened to be in love with. And now he had abandoned them both.

He'd always thought of himself as a loyal friend. Sure he had worked through some rough patches with Harry during the Tri-Wizard tournament, and there had been no denying the disaster that was 6th year. But, despite all the disasters, when there were real issues, they had always been there for each other. Even when he wasn't talking to Harry during the tournament, he'd still managed to warn him about the dragon task. And despite how awful they had been to each other, the minute he had been poisoned she had been at his side. He'd always known he would never be the star or the hero, but he had always done what he could for the people he loved. Until then. He had just thrown away, even pissed on, everything that he had held dear.

And now how would he find them? He had no idea where they went. And even if he did, the wards they would put up around the campsite would prevent him from ever seeing them or being able to get close. He tried in vain a few times to disapperate to the inside of the tent. He concentrated on what that looked like and tried to make it work, but to no avail.

He had to confess that part of him wondered if he should just disappear that night. He had failed his friends. There was no way to find them. And he honestly wasn't sure if he could live with that shame.

Again Hermione said nothing, but increased her tight hold on his arm as he continued talking.

So, he explained that another part of him knew they needed him. Even if he had fucked up more than anyone could ever imagine, he'd known he needed to tell them about the taboo. He needed to help them see how that locket was screwing with their minds. And he needed to see them through this. He wanted to see Harry kill Voldemort.

And, he admitted as he looked at Hermione, he knew he wanted to have a chance at creating a life with her. And that shot alone was worth swallowing his pride and figuring out what to do next. She smiled and kissed his cheek, but still said nothing.

He told her how it felt like not too much time had passed before it was dark. But as he'd had no tent or protection or way to keep warm, he had simply stayed against that tree and shivered through that night. He didn't sleep. He just kept asking the powers of the universe to keep Hermione and Harry safe and to help him find them again.

And then his voice shifted as he started talking about that the realizations he'd had as he was there alone in the wood. He sounded hopeful – even determined – as he explained how he had simply stared into the darkness and created this clear vision in his mind of the man he wanted to be, and how different that was from the fucked up teenager he was at that moment. He thought he had been a good friend. But when push came to shove, he had left them. He'd whined about sharing his family with them. He had to admit he'd been jealous of his parents' attention. He had floated through school, leaning on Hermione's good graces to help him pass his courses. He did things when asked, but he hadn't looked for ways to help. He hadn't initiated ideas. He waited to be told what to do, and then only did it after grumbling. Why? He'd known she hadn't liked eating mushrooms. He'd known she was starving too. Why hadn't he de-gnomed the garden for his mum without being asked? He'd known it needed to be done. And, he said as he looked at her, why hadn't he told her how he really felt?

That night in the wood he had realized he didn't just want to find his friends again. He didn't just want to help them. He wanted to be someone worthy of such amazing friends. He wanted to earn back their forgiveness and their trust. And, he had known he was willing to do anything it took to do that. And even if they never forgave him, he knew he would dedicate all of his energy to helping them bring down Voldemort if they would let him.

As the forest slipped into the pre-dawn greys and dark blues of a winter dawn, he also realized that he had lost a significant amount of blood from his hands over night. Without dittany he had been unable to heal the wounds, and his fingers were still actively bleeding. And while bleeding to death alone in the wood may have been an appropriate punishment, he knew it would not help his friends or his family. So, he swallowed all of his pride and realized he needed to go to his oldest brother and get help. Bill had offered his assistance, and he'd known he could trust him to not alert the rest of the family of what had happened. So, he had looked around at the forest where she and Harry had been only 48 hours before. Not feeling like he could sever that connection completely, he'd bent down and picked up one small smooth stone on the ground needing something to hold onto that connected him to where they had been. He'd put it next to the deluminator in his pocket, rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger and disapperated to Shell Cottage.

As Ron stopped talking, he stared out at the ocean. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the deluminator and the worn pebble form that night. And he placed the new pebble from the tidal pool along with it in his palm. There was something soothing about that – something assuring about being grounded or connected to a place. Finally, he turned his head and looked at Hermione. She was looking at him with such a mix of love and aguish that it nearly broke his heart. She was crying, but damn, he thought, she even looks amazing when she's upset. He reached out gently and wiped the tears from under her eyes, which made her smile, and reach for one of his hands against her cheek.

"I know you've said I should stop apologizing," he sighed. "But I will always be sorry. And I would take it all back in a heartbeat."

"I wouldn't," she said, causing him to startle at her response.

After a dumbfounded moment simply staring at her, he managed to mumble a confused, "Why?"

"Because it's part of you. And I love you exactly as you are this very moment. And I wouldn't change a single thing. And, from my personal experience with that awful time turner I know all too well that if you change one thing, the entire future changes. And you know what? In this future we are both alive and together. And you are amazing and loving and tender and kind and brilliant, but I know that the stubborn, argumentative prat I love is still in there too. And if that horrible experience of leaving and not being able to find us was part of what brought you as you are in this exact moment, then I wouldn't change it."

He stared at her for a moment before he laughed, shaking his head and turning away to again look out at the sea. "I'll never understand why you're with me, but I sure am glad you are."

"Ronald Weasley, you stop right there. I love you. You! I have had just about enough of you believing Voldemort's bullshite!"

His eyebrows shot up at her curse, but she continued before he could say a word.

" _You_ are amazing. _You_ are my chosen one. No one else. You seem to think I can make no mistakes except for apparently being a complete idiot in falling in love with the wrong wizard! You do see the absurdity of that logic, right?"

Ron had to concede that she had a point, but he still added, "Ok. But you know there are plenty of things you may be right about that I just don't understand. Let's just say that this is one of those. I don't get it. But I choose to believe you and trust you know what you're doing."

"Hmm, ok then," she said. "But, I want to be sure of something. Do you understand that we all had horrible things running through our minds? And do you understand that he snagged onto the insecurities in each of us and magnified them to try and break us? It wasn't just you."

He cringed and finally said, "Yeah. I know. But I still listened, and you didn't."

"But I did! You heard what came out of the cup before I killed it. The thoughts he jumped on for me were all around not being loved or included or understood. My head would have this running loop of things like, _They don't really care about me. They are only using me for my brain. They don't really want to be my friend. Ron could never care for me like I care for him. I'm smart but ugly and bossy and stubborn. I'm not what any man would really want, but especially someone as amazing as you_. And I know those aren't true. But they are all thoughts that had gone through my head, and he just seized on them. He kept trying to convince me that I was an outcast from every society and could never be loved by anyone. And I listened, and at many points during those days I believed it. But I don't believe it now, and I don't feel guilty for being ground down by him like that."

Ron sighed and moved to take her hand in his. "I'm trying. I really am. And, well, it's like you've said these past few weeks, we don't really know what changes will last and what won't. But I do know I don't want to go back to being the bloke who complained all the time, who never helped until someone nagged at him and who just skated through school and work leaning on others. I'm not saying I am or was a horrible person. But, I really do want to try and be more like the vision I had in my head that night. It was an awful night, but I can see that picture clearly in my head of who I might be able to become. Partly for you and my family, but mostly because I want to be that proud of myself. I never have been, and I really want to get there."

"Well," she said with a small grin. "That I can get behind. I am your biggest fan. And if you want to become that person in your mind, then I am here for you. I just want to be sure that this wizard you see in your head still has your kind, gentle, funny, light, encouraging and stubborn spirit. I know you worry about being enough – smart enough, athletic enough, whatever-enough. But we all see what we are insecure about, right? I want to be pretty enough or relaxed enough or enjoyable enough. But, when you see me, you don't see what I'm not. You tell me things that I am that you love about me. And it's the same for you – I don't see what you're not. I see what you are, and I want to be sure those amazing qualities that I love and value don't go away because you are trying to be perfect. Neither of us ever will be perfect. But, what I am hoping is that our imperfections are perfect for each other."

He grinned at her, and lifted her hand up to his lips to kiss. "You are amazing. And I promise to keep trying. And you're right – as much as I regret leaving and look back on that night with some incredible shame, it is part of what has brought us to this moment – this place where we can finally be together. I love you, and I know that as we both recover from this whole mess that we are absolutely better together than trying to do this on our own."

"Absolutely," she said. And then she kissed him, slowly at first, but deepening quickly. His hand moved behind her head to hold her to him, and his other hand softly stroked the line of her jaw.

After a passionate kiss, they sat together watching the waves crash against the shore as she snuggled into his arms and chest.

"Thank you for this amazing day," she said. "It's been perfect."

"Yeah? Well, hold onto your big old sun hat because we still have more to do."

"Seriously?"

"Well, yes. It's just dinner, but you know how seriously I take eating."

"Oh, that I know," she laughed.

Eventually they made their way back to the trail and completed their hike before heading back to the hotel in Sydney to get cleaned up for dinner. All Ron would tell Hermione is that it was a nice place and that they should dress up a bit. This intrigued her, which only served to make him grin all the more.

When they got back, Ron said he would take the first shower and then let her have the bathroom. He got quickly cleaned up and changed, and then while Hermione was taking her shower, he popped downstairs to get everything ready for the evening.

He'd actually already talked to one of the hotel reception clerks asking for advice on where to take Hermione for a nice dinner for their last night alone without George or her parents. Unlike the place he had found in London, he hadn't had a chance to do a practice run this time to be sure he knew where it was. But, the hotel clerk assured him it was within a couple blocks walk from the hotel and was easy to find. Now he wanted to get Hermione flowers for their dinner date. He had noticed there was a florist next to the hotel, so he quickly found a beautiful bouquet of flowers and headed back up to the room. He was quite relieved to find the bedroom door still shut so that she never knew he was gone.

He had put on his new muggle dinner jacket, button up shirt and khaki trousers that Percy had given him before they left. He looked in the mirror and was a bit shocked at the reflection. He'd never had anything that was bought new in his size before, and he was a bit astounded at what a difference it made. He hadn't wanted to go with Percy when he'd insisted on taking him to a muggle department store the day before they left for Australia. He'd argued he didn't have any money anyway, but Percy had refused to take no for an answer. He'd said he was several years behind on Christmas and birthdays. Ron was still refusing until Percy pointed out that Ron was likely meeting his future in-laws for the first time as the boyfriend in the too short and extremely ratty clothes he'd worn all year while he slept in in a tent with their daughter. Ron realized he had no argument for that and finally let Percy drag him into muggle London for "proper" clothes. And damn, he made a mental note to thank him when he got back. Ron shook his head laughing glad that he never really realized how bad he looked in the ill-fitting hand me downs until he had something to compare it to. And while it felt a little silly to get that dressed up to eat dinner, he hoped Hermione would appreciate it.

When at last she opened the bedroom door and came out, he felt his jaw drop a bit. Hermione looked amazing, and she was wearing a dress he knew he had never seen before. It was a brilliant royal blue, crossing in the front making a low v, and then flaring out at her hips so that it moved when she walked. She had left her hair down, like he loved it, and had black high heels on, which still didn't make her tall enough to reach his shoulders.

"You look bloody gorgeous, Hermione," he gaffawed. "Where have you been hiding that dress all this time?"

Hermione smiled as a blush crept up her neck. "Fleur gave it to me for the trip. She told me to save it for a special night, and this seemed like the right time to pull it out. So it looks ok for where we are heading?"

Ron snorted, "Love, you look so amazing we could go anywhere in the world and you would fit right in. Oh, bollocks, I got so distracted by you in that dress I forgot to give you these." He handed her the flowers, and she squealed a little bit.

"Oh Ron, they're lovely. And you look so handsome – and in a muggle dinner jacket no less! I _know_ I have never seen you in those trousers before, they look amazing on you. Especially your arse," she smirked as she ran her hand across his behind. "I would definitely have remembered seeing you in these before. Whenever did you get them?"

Ron felt his ears go red, "Percy dragged me shopping the day before we left when you went off with Harry. I tried to argue my way out of it, but he pointed out that I shouldn't see your parents in the ratty trousers I wore all year in the tent with their daughter."

"Remind me to thank Percy when we get back," she said. "You look fantastic."

"Well, thanks. But I am rather confident I could wear nothing but one of those tea cozy hats you made and if I was standing next to you in that dress no one would ever notice."

She blushed at his compliment and said, "Let me put these flowers in some water before we go."

They walked the few blocks to the restaurant, and soon found the French restaurant the hotel had recommended. Hermione ordered them muggle wine and pointed out several dishes she thought he might like.

"You know, as much as I desperately want to see my parents and restore their memories, I have to admit, I am not ready to have our vacation end just yet. It has been so nice to be away from everything and just spend time together. And it feels like in just a few days that will change once we see my parents. Whether it goes well or goes poorly, we'll have to explain everything and I'll go back into planning mode and then we'll have to go back to England and I'll have to start studying and…"

"Whoa, Hermione, hold on a minute. Don't get ahead of yourself and spin into a frenzy quite yet. Tonight it's still just us. And we have all day tomorrow before George comes back. I know our time here is limited, so I don't want to spend it worrying about what may or may not happen in the future."

"Hmm. We have met, right," she said sticking out her hand to greet him. "I'm Hermione Granger, distributer of homework planners and revision schedules? Planning and worrying is what I do, Ron!"

He laughed at her extended hand, and then took it and kissed it. "Well, I guess that is why we are so perfect for each other. You plan things, which often saves my neck. And I keep you from over-thinking things, which often saves yours."

"Probably true. And, you're right – I was getting a bit carried away there for a minute. But, this trip has been so incredible. I just get anxious thinking about how things may have to change when we find my parents or go back to England. I, well, I just – it scares me how in love with you I am. I feel like I've spent my whole life thinking I was this independent young woman, and now I don't think I could make it through a day without you. What does that make me? Have I become one of those wishy washy girls in the books who was always dependent on some man?"

"Come on, Hermione. First, I am not just 'some man.' And you need to give both of us some credit – we've been through a hell of a lot in the past year. So, even if we weren't in love, I think we would both be utterly dependent on our best friends to get us through things right now."

"I know. I know. I just feel like the strong and confident girl that sent her parents to Australia a year ago didn't make it through the war. I am not that person anymore, and I think anticipating seeing my parents has made me realize the girl they knew is gone."

"No, Hermione. No. That isn't true. You are so strong and brave. And brilliant. But now we've grown up. And we've seen that good beating evil isn't a given. It has heavy costs and we lost a lot of people we loved. You almost died! Several times! Those experiences didn't erase the confident girl from a year ago. She grew up and had to learn a lot of hard lessons in a short period of time. I know I'm not the same – and you aren't either. But our core selves haven't changed that much do you think?"

"Maybe it's that we've been forged in the fire. Transformed into something similar but yet different. We've always had loyalty and bravery in us, which is why we were the Gryffindor friends of The Chosen One, I suppose. But until this past year, so much of it seemed theoretical. But then life got in the way, and we both had moments where we knew we would be willing to endure anything, even death, so our friends could live. Maybe those moments transformed us like iron in a fire."

Ron reached for her hand and simply held it. She looked in his eyes and smirked a bit.

"What?"

"I just realized," she said, "that your eyes are almost the exact shade of blue as the ocean we saw today. They have all of those blues and turquoises swirling in them. I've always been a bit mesmerized by your eyes. But, now I'll see them and think of this amazing day you gave us."

"Glad my eyes can be associated with a good day then. I would hate to have eyes that were the same beige as the tent or something."

As they made their way back to the hotel after dinner, the connection between them was palpable. He had his arm around her as they walked, and it was chilly on the fall night, so he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. The door had barley clicked closed on the hotel room when Hermione turned and gazed at him.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you say if I told you I wanted to have sex? Tonight."


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: Very, very M. Skip if not for you...carrytheotter**_

Chapter 21

As they made their way back to the hotel after dinner, the connection between them was palpable. He had his arm around her as they walked, and it was chilly on the fall night, so he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders. The door had barley clicked closed on the hotel room when Hermione turned and gazed at him.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"What would you say if I told you I wanted to have sex? Tonight."

Ron stood there stunned, jaw slacked open and all ability to form words and sentences completely vanished. Finally, he physically shook his head and decided he hadn't been hearing voices and that – based on the look on her face – Hermione had ACTUALLY said she wanted to have sex. With him. Right now. But then his mind kicked into overthinking again, and he worried he'd actually somehow screwed everything up. But, he must have been standing there with his mouth gaping like a fish a little too long, as Hermione's smirk morphed from a sexy smile to a worried, furrowed brow.

"Ron?" she asked, both concern and self-doubt coming through her voice.

He eventually managed to stammer out a response. "Uh, Hermione, please don't think I was trying to have a fancy dinner just so we would have sex. I would _never_ do that. You have to know…"

Hermione relaxed into a smile again and cut him off.

"Ron, take a deep breath. I know you didn't orchestrate this whole amazing day to try to trick me into shagging. That's not what I said. I had told you I was going to be ready soon, and I think – no, I know, that I am ready now."

"Really? I mean, _really_?" he asked, surprising himself at how deep and gravely his voice suddenly sounded. He took a hesitant step towards her, unable to resist raising his hand to cup her cheek. "I don't want to pressure you, Hermione. I'll wait as long as you..."

This time Hermione cut him off with a convincing kiss.

"Really, Ron," she finally said, slightly breathless from the kiss. "I love you. And I am so madly attracted to you that I can't take it anymore. The way you touch me makes me feel so incredible, but I want more. I want all of you. And I want you to have all of me."

As she spoke she moved her hands across his chest and up around his neck. He stared at her for a moment, still quite stunned at what was happening. But, finally he managed to whisper, "I love you so much, Hermione Granger."

He leaned down to kiss her tenderly. Their lips just brushed against each other, like feathers. He took her lips in his, and melted into the softness that was his Hermione. He felt her tongue slip into his mouth, and his hands moved of their own accord – one into her brilliant curls and one to the small of her back, pressing her to him. She whimpered softly then, which somehow broke the softness of the moment for him with a jolt to his cock, but he didn't want to rush her – or rush them in this moment. But then she was tugging at his shirt and began undoing the buttons while he still tried to hold her mouth in a kiss. Once she had his shirt off, she trailed her fingers over his bare chest, causing gooseflesh to erupt across his skin. As he released a slow breath, still slightly intoxicated from the situation, she turned around and lifted her hair, revealing a hidden zipper in the back of the blue dress. Ron raised an eyebrow at her, but gave her a lopsided smile and slowly pulled the zipper down, peppering her neck slowly with kisses as he went. As the dress fell to the ground, she turned back to him. And fuck if she didn't shock him speechless yet again. _How did she keep doing that?_ His ever practical Hermione who always had on sensible cotton knickers and bras was in an incredibly sexy black lace and satin bra with matching knickers, and somehow still had on her black high heels.

"Holy shit, Hermione, you are so fucking hot," he gasped, trying to simultaneously stand far enough back to see her and yet unable to keep his hands off of her nipples hard and tauntingly visible through the taught black satin and lace.

She said nothing, but managed to somehow simultaneously give him both a shy smile and a searingly sexy gaze. Then the shy smile broke as she unconsciously licked her swollen lips and inched even closer towards him. Ron, however, was still utterly stunned staring at her in her sexy lingerie and high heels. It was as if his cock was straining to go, but his brain hadn't realized that this was all _actually_ happening in real life and not just a bloody brilliant dream.

Smirking at his stunned stupor, she gently pushed her fingers against his bare chest causing him take a few unsteady steps backwards. As the back of his faltering knees hit the edge of the bed he felt his knees give and arse hit the bed, and he was now suddenly sitting on the edge of the mattress. She grinned again, moved to straddle him on his lap and began kissing his neck while her hands danced over his skin, causing his eyes to shut of their own accord. Soon she was kissing his jaw line while her satin and lace clad chest slid across his bare skin. His hands immediately grabbed her bum, and the feel of her in the silky fabric made Ron groan in a mix of pleasure and anticipation. He held her tightly to himself as he leaned back to lay on the bed, bringing her down with him.

Once they were horizontal, she quickly went to work on his belt so she could shed his trousers. Her heels were kicked off with his shoes closely following. Ron unhooked her bra and soon was lost in the pleasure of her breasts, making her moan from worshipping her nipples with his tongue. Her tiny hands, still somehow cool from their walk outside were now on his arse, her nails scraping against his skin as she drew her hands up. He knew if she started stroking him he would be done before they got started.

So, he rolled them over, still somehow stunned that they could move as one like that. He grinned as he looked down at her, lips swollen, eyes dark with lust, her mad curls spread across the bed beneath them.

"Better than every wanking fantasy I've ever had," he mumbled against her skin as he sucked on a particularly tender spot beneath her left breast.

He felt, more than heard, her chuckle at the comment and smiled knowing he could picture her expression at that exact moment. He let his hands take over on her breasts as he kissed his way down her stomach, amused at the reaction he got from her when he reached her belly button. He ran his hands down along her sides until his fingers reached the top of her knickers. Grinning again at the feel of the lace he hooked his two index fingers into her knickers and pulled them slowly down her legs, taking the time to kiss each inch of her as it was revealed.

Finally he straightened up on his knees, drew her legs straight up and pulled the silky black item off her altogether, discarding it without a second thought as his eyes turned back to his gorgeous, naked, and apparently randy witch as she looked up at him with the most amazing expression. It caught his breath as he gazed at her. She had been all lust and desire only a second before, but now there was a tenderness there – an unconditional love and utter trust that almost brought tears to his eyes.

Almost. Because, well – it was Hermione. Naked. And turned-on. And they were alone. In a hotel room. In a foreign country. And about to have SEX.

He grinned as he slid his large, fumbling hands back down her legs, slowly parting them so he could kiss her inner thighs and work his way back up to his destination. He heard her sigh, slightly shivering as his hand worked his way around under her arse and back up around her waist to hold her where he wanted her. With one leg gently propped over his right shoulder, he grinned and began torturing her with his tongue, loving the fact that he already knew some of the best spots to tease her with, as well as how to make her come undone when he wanted to. And, holy fuck did he want to. She was already dripping in anticipation, which he still had a hard time believing was all for him. But regardless, he worked her slowly with his lips and tongue and fingers until she was taught and coiled so tightly he thought she might snap. She was writhing and squirming in pleasure gripping his hair so tightly he was sure he'd have a bald spot. And then with a final grin, his head slightly tilted back so he could watch her, he caught that little nub in his tongue as he flicked and rolled it while sucking at the same time. Not changing his pace at all as she arched up from the bed, screaming his name and thrashing back and forth as the quivers shot through her legs as he felt her walls tighten. She continued to gasp in agonizing pleasure as he didn't let up with his mouth. He had to move with her as she bucked her hips up and trapped his head between her clenched thighs.

What a bloody brilliant way to go, he thought to himself as he realized he wasn't exactly able to breathe in his current predicament. But he shortly let up on her, and her legs that had trapped him like a vice suddenly released and fell to the bed as if hit by a jelly leg jinx. She was wetter than he ever remembered, and she was delicious. In every possible way.

In books or those ridiculous poems Hermione had made him read he'd always thought the authors were utter rubbish babbling on about love overloading the senses. But as he was drowning in the sight and smell and taste and touch and sound of her, he realized he was the one who had simply not understood. When he'd imagined shagging Hermione he'd always had these pictures in his head of how she would look, and then as he wanked he would try to imagine how it would feel. But, the rest of it – well he supposed you couldn't forget something you'd never actually known to begin with. He loved that he now knew how she smelled and tasted and sounded when coming undone. But, fuck. The experience with all five senses at once was absolutely, overwhelmingly intoxicating. And he loved it.

He was gently running his hands up and down one leg and across her stomach as she recovered from what he smugly thought was the most intense orgasm she'd ever had. Just watching her was mesmerizing, and he saw her eyes flutter open and smiled at her.

"Well look who's back," he whispered through a grin.

"I'd tease you for looking so smug, but then I'd worry you'd never do THAT again," she laughed weakly.

"We wouldn't want that, now, would we?" he teased.

"Well, _I_ definitely wouldn't. THAT - as you might say – was _fucking fantastic_."

"Fuck, I love it when you cuss, Hermione," he groaned.

"Hmm. Yes. There is a time and place for everything," she sighed as she sat up.

She leaned in for a lengthy kiss, and Ron knew she could taste herself on his lips, which somehow made his cock strain ever harder against the thin cotton pants he was still wearing. And when she started stroking his chest with her feather light fingers he felt his heart flutter and his eyes close. And then she moved her hands lower and caught her fingers in the waist band of his pants. He felt himself freeze and look at her, and she flashed him an incredible grin and slowly shimmied his pants down. He awkwardly lifted his bum to help her and internally wondered how absurd his pale, gangly body with a raging hard on must look in the same bed as the gorgeous naked woman in front of him.

He leaned up to kiss her again, and she whispered, "now," as she began to stroke his shaft. He groaned in a ragged breath as he nodded. She lay back on the bed, legs parting for him.

He paused for one second more before whispering in a gravely voice, "You're absolutely sure?"

"So sure," she assured him. "Make love to me. Please?"

It was the 'please' that just about did him in completely. He couldn't help but lean down and kiss her before reaching over to grab his wand off the nightstand and casting the contraception charm his brothers had drilled into his head. While he knew there was very little chance that Hermione could get pregnant right now anyway, it seemed best to make sure there was no chance. She may be not fully recovered yet, but he was still a Weasley.

With the charm cast, he looked her in the eyes again. Part of his mind was screaming "holy shite I am about to fuck Hermione," but somehow he was able to be present in the moment and was suddenly overcome with his love for this brilliant, fierce and fragile witch.

"I love you so much, Hermione. I don't want to hurt you, so just tell me if we need to stop, ok?"

"It's ok, Ron. It will be ok. Just go slow. I, uh, well, I just need to expand a bit to get used to your size," she said with a blush. But, she reached out and slowly stroked his alert cock and added, "I want this so badly, Ron. Please."

He nodded, bent quickly to kiss her and found her entrance. He fumbled a bit, but just the brief touch of his strained erection and her dripping folds had them both groaning instantly. On the third try he slowly entered her. His eyes squeezed shut, and he heard himself moan something, probably a slur of unintelligible curse words. Just before he let his instinct take over, he felt her gasp beneath him, and he instantly froze.

"Are you ok?" he gasped, eyes still shut tightly, his forehead pressed against hers using every ounce of his will power to be still no matter the cost.

"I'm ok," she said, a strained tone betraying her confident words. "You can keep – I mean - just – just go sl-, I just need..."

Her words trailed off as he felt her tense and suddenly still in the crook of his neck. He tried to remain completely still and balanced on his forearms trying so hard to not move, but he was quickly realizing if he didn't move soon he might actually die. But blessedly just before dying in the middle of his first shag he felt her relax beneath him, suddenly breathing easier. Then he felt her nod reassuringly, her lips kissing his shoulder and her legs softening around his hips.

He started to stutter, "Can I..." but was cut off as Hermione suddenly thrust her hips up, catching him off guard as he sunk bollocks-deep into her. "Fuuuuck..." he gasped in pleasure. FuckFuckFuck, he thought. I'm actually inside her. Fuuuuucck!

It was the most incredible feeling Ron had ever known, and was far beyond any boyhood fantasy. The feel of Hermione surrounding him was almost too much to take. He'd imagined tight or wet or hot, but the entirety of it all at once – how could she be so fucking soft and so fucking tight at the same time? It was as if that place inside her had been made only for him. And that brief thought made him groan again, guttural sounds of pleasure he didn't even know he could make.

She nuzzled his neck and gasped, "I'm good, you can move now."

He was rather sure he was incapable of forming sentences at that point, so he just nodded and started to slowly pull back. At first he slipped out of her altogether, and he grimaced in mortification, but as he fumbled at her entrance to line back up he saw her beaming at him.

"I'm so glad neither of us know what we're doing. Thank God we're figuring this out together. I can't imagine ever trusting anyone else like this."

"Oh, fuck, me too," he grinned as he kissed her again. "And I'm so glad you're turned on by the barmiest things – elves and inexperienced lovers," he muttered against her lips as she started to chuckle.

But then he thrust into her again, causing them both to gasp in pleasure. He felt himself getting back to that secret place that suddenly felt like home. This time she rocked her hips with his movement and whimpered blissfully as he began to try find some sort of a rhythm. No one had ever told him was hard to figure that out, but when he wanked he'd never had to accommodate anyone else. He realized it wasn't as simple as he'd thought, but it was also infinitely better than he'd ever hoped. And he agreed with Hermione, he couldn't imagine being like this with anyone on this earth but her.

He was still afraid of hurting her, but as he melted into her again and again he felt her pull him tighter by wrapping her legs around him and meeting his thrusts with her own each time. He shifted his weight a bit and somehow found he was propping up one of her legs slightly differently. He was about to shift back when she yelled out, "Oh, God, right there! Do that again."

"Like that?" he asked hesitantly as he tried desperately to repeat the motion. But her head arched in pleasure answered him. He grinned, "Finally a broomstick you like, huh?"

She laughed through her pleasure. "Remind me to smack you later, but for the love of Merlin don't you dare stop!"

"Fuck, I love you," he panted, hips thrusting and eyes locked on hers.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could remember his brothers saying girls rarely had an orgasm their first time having sex, but he didn't want that for Hermione. Knowing he only had a few thrusts left in him, he quickly moved one hand down to the nub he had tortured earlier and started massaging it as well, and he felt Hermione instantly respond beneath him. Soon they were both on the cusp and she came, clamping her walls around him, which milked him to release as well. He collapsed on her, breathless and spent in total ecstasy. He lay there panting for a bit with no sense of time whatsoever. She simply clutched him tightly to herself, not letting him pull out or roll over.

Eventually she said, "Sorry, you just feel perfect inside me. I don't want to let you go."

Once he could think coherently again, all he could think was "Holy shit, I just had sex with Hermione!" But instead of shouting that, he said, "Me either, but I don't want to crush you."

She finally conceded, and he slipped out and rolled to the side. But she immediately curled up on his chest, their legs intertwined as they both regained their breath. He could feel her doze off next to him as he lingered in this dream like bliss. He was spent as well, but so fucking happy that he wanted to be awake longer just to make it last. Despite his efforts to fight off sleep, the next thing he knew he was waking up to sun light coming through the hotel curtains to find Hermione still naked and cuddled up to him in bed smiling up at him.


	22. Chapter 22

_**(A/N: More M ahead...skip if not for you...carrytheotter)**_

Chapter 22

"It wasn't a dream," he smiled. "Morning," he said to her in a hoarse whisper as he moved a stray curl from her face.

She grinned and kissed him.

Then she pulled away and started to get out of the bed, "W w w wait a minute," Ron protested wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back against himself. "Where are you going?"

"I've desperately had to use the loo for a long time now," she said, once again extricating herself from his grasp. "But you looked so peaceful, and I was so perfectly content I didn't want to move. But I can't wait any more."

With that she darted into the loo, not even bothering to grab a shirt to throw on. Ron chuckled as he watched her. Fuck. She managed to look sexy even running to the loo to take a piss. But, yeah. She was naked doing that, which is a huge bonus when it came to Hermione. But it certainly wasn't helping his morning stiffy situation to see her all cute and perky and bouncy. And naked. In their hotel room. Where they'd had sex.

He sat up lazily in bed and rubbed his eyes trying to wake up. Damn. He and Hermione had sex! And it was abso-fucking-lutely fantastic. He wondered if she regretted it, because he definitely didn't regret it. Only regret was why they waited so long. Despite how physically fantastic it felt, all it did was confirm to him that they were somehow meant to be together. He chuckled to himself thinking it was a bit like a key finding the right lock, but he knew she'd think that was crude. Which made him like it even more.

He could hear her in the loo and knew she would be a little flustered coming out naked. He was debating whether he should be all chivalrous and get up to give her a shirt and her wand through the door. Or should he do what he really wanted to do which was watch her be all cute and perky and embarrassed and bounce her naked arse back into the bed. But, then he realized he'd want to have sex again, and he, too, needed to take a piss before that. So, he sighed, rolled out out of bed and found their wands. Then he slipped into his discarded pants from the floor and looked around for her shirt. Spotting her discarded dress and lingerie he chuckled thinking she wouldn't find any of that terribly helpful at the moment. Ron grinned and realized if he couldn't have her naked then at least he would have her in his clothes. So, he grabbed his button down off the floor and rapped on the door of the loo.

"Just a minute," she called.

"Just thought you might need your wand, and, er – this," he said awkwardly to the closed door.

At that the door opened and her head full of crazy curls stuck out from around the corner. Her slightly embarrassed face immediately eased seeing the shirt he was offering her.

"Thank you," she said earnestly. "That's perfect." With that she snagged his shirt and wand and shut the door again.

He grinned and thought it wasn't as perfect as her naked arse, but he'd take it none the less.

She popped back out in a minute and kissed his cheek as he switched with her declaring, "my turn," and promptly shut the door. He squinted a bit in the bright room. The muggle lights were so bright in front of the giant mirror, and the all-white bathroom just reflected everything back in a somewhat jarring manner. He shook his head at the reflection – he would be totally camouflaged in that white bathroom if it wasn't for the freckles and the ginger hair. With that thought, the self-doubts started sneaking back into his mind, but he fought them down again. He closed his eyes and thought about last night, reminding himself that she'd asked him why he thinks she can make no mistakes except for in what she thinks of him. If she believed in him, and she wants him, then who was he to doubt her.

A few minutes later, he came back out of the loo to a stunning sight. Hermione stood there, clad in nothing but his dress shirt, reading something on the table in front of the window. The sunlight was streaming in behind her, causing her to be perfectly silhouetted against the light.

"You're one fucking lucky bastard," he mumbled to himself.

She popped her head up from what she was looking at and grinned at seeing him. He came and wrapped his arms around her waist as she placed hers around his neck.

"Now can I kiss you properly?" he smirked, one eyebrow raised above his lopsided smile.

"Not if I kiss you first," she teased. "But I was going to ask you if..." But he quickly cut her off with a breathtaking kiss.

Lost in the moment, she eventually moved her kisses down his jaw line and neck.

"You were going to-uh, oh – aaahhhhsk me something," he managed to get out between groans of pleasure.

"Hmm?" she replied, not being distracted from her attention to his bare chest.

"Uh, you had a question?" Ron gasped as she flicked over his nipple with her mouth.

"Hmm, yes," she said, leaning back, which gave Ron the perfect opportunity to kiss her neck in the same distracting manner. "I, uh, hmm..." she moaned. "Uh, yeah...did you want to get room service for breakfast?"

"Later," he mumbled against her chest as he began unbuttoning his shirt that was currently between his lips and her breasts.

"Wow, putting off breakfast, huh?" she teased.

"Fuck, yeah," he laughed – responding to her question and simultaneously celebrating the release of the last shirt button and slipping the offending garment off her perfect shoulders.

She laughed at his reaction, and quickly turned her attention to getting him out of his pants before they tumbled onto the bed, laughing and kissing, much more playfully than they had been the night prior. He was alternating between kissing her and tickling her, and he adored the rosy shade it managed to turn her cheeks. She kept trying to protest, but would be cut off by a breathtaking kiss before she could say anything.

Finally, she pulled away and said, "Watch out, Weasley. I know how to get you to listen to me."

"Oh, yeah?" he taunted as he tickled her behind her left knee where he knew she was most vulnerable. "And how is that exactly?"

"Like this," she said with utter confidence as she smiled, and before he knew it, she had taken his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip.

"Yup," shuddered Ron, as he immediately froze in his tracks, his eyes rolling back in his head as he squeezed them shut. "That'll do it."

She "hmmmd" in response, and the vibrations around his straining cock almost sent him over the edge.

"Fuck, Hermione!" he groaned.

She simply grinned, and continued controlling him with nothing but her lips and her tongue. Ron had stopped saying anything and was clearly focusing all of his energy on not coming too soon. Finally, she released him with a "pop," and pushed him gently to his back. She grabbed her wand and cast the contraception charm as she straddled him, trapping his throbbing erection between them. He groaned as she rocked her hips and generated the most exquisitely agonizing sensation. Her breasts were brushing back and forth across his chest, and he was utterly at her mercy.

Finally she sat up, balanced up on her knees as she grasped his length in her hand and tried to line up to it. She fumbled a bit, and Ron simply held his breath the whole time trying desperately not to come or even move. Finally she sank down on him, and he was suddenly moaning in relief at being back inside her. But this time, he could watch her adjust angles, trying to figure out what felt best for her. He couldn't not touch her, so his hands slid up her bare thighs to then reach for her bouncing breasts.

"Oh, fuck," he declared as she started trying to go up a bit and then impale herself on him as she came back down.

They fumbled together, laughing a bit as they would try something that didn't work, but soon they had found a rhythm that worked. He was holding her hips, helping her lift her tiny, perfct arse up and then plunging up into her as she came down. Her breasts were bouncing, her curls were wild, and he knew there was no way he could last much longer.

"Fuck, Hermione. Are you close? I don't think I can hold out much longer."

"You don't have to wait, Ron. I want you to feel good," she said.

"Like hell," he said, and he dropped one hand down to where they were joined and started on her clit.

"Oh, yeah, ahhh," Hermione whimpered. And then he realized she was rubbing her breasts, and he slipped the hand from her arse to tweak one of her nipples and then felt her walls begin to spasm around him.

Ron moaned out in pleasure and relief as she came, taking him with her. She continued to rock over him for a moment and then collapsed onto his chest, still quivering slightly from the aftershocks.

Ron wasn't sure if they'd dozed off, but having slept or not, they remained in bed and intertwined together for a while. But, eventually his growling stomach made her start to giggle.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Well, I am highly invested in you staying fueled up and raring to go," she laughed. "And, anyway – I forgot that I had suggested room service earlier."

"Brilliant," he said.

Hermione called down and ordered the food, and they stayed in bed talking about nothing in particular as Ron held her in his arms, drawing patterns with his fingers over her bare skin.

At some point they heard the knock on the door for the room service, and Ron got up and threw on some pajama bottoms to go get the food. And, when he came back into the room he found he was a bit disappointed to see Hermione had put on a dressing gown as well. She laughed at his sad face.

"Don't worry, Ron. It is easily removable. It just feels weird to eat breakfast naked!"

"I don't know, I think we should try to do more things where you are naked."

"Hah!" she laughed. "You are one to talk. You put clothes on to eat breakfast."

"Actually, I put clothes on so I wouldn't scare the hotel guy who brought it up," he chuckled.

They ate their breakfast, comfortably teasing each other as always. Though he inwardly smirked when he realized she wasn't lecturing him about not getting crumbs in the bed like she usually would.

"Hmm," he pondered to himself as he finished off the last scrap of breakfast _. If a thoroughly shagged Hermione is a more mellow Hermione, then I am most assuredly up for the task._ He chuckled at his inward pun, which Hermione noticed.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing," he grinned, leaning over to pull on the sash of her dressing gown.

"Hmm," she said cheekily. "I think I need a shower before anything else."

"I thought we'd basically stay in bed all day," pouted Ron.

"I didn't say I needed to shower alone," Hermione said coyly as she walked into the bathroom, discarding her dressing gown as she went.

Stunned, he looked at the tossed dressing gown on the floor and heard the water turn on in the shower. He just stared after her, not totally convinced he had heard her correctly. And then she stuck her head back out of the bathroom door and said, "Well, are you coming?"

He more or less tripped over the breakfast table as he quickly made his way to the bathroom, shedding his pants as he went. The room had already steamed up, and Hermione was already in the shower. He stepped in behind her, pulling the shower door shut.

Hermione had her hands in her hair working in the shampoo. He first put his hands on her waist and said, "Let me," as he took over scrubbing the suds into her hair. After a minute, she turned around to face him, and he thought he would die at the sight. The soap suds were dripping down her front, flowing over her breasts and down to her thighs. When he had rinsed the soap from her hair, he leaned to kiss her, but she smacked him away playfully and insisted on washing his hair first. They laughed as she couldn't actually reach all of it without him bending down in a horribly awkward way. But, they persisted until Hermione deemed them both clean.

Grinning at her, he leaned down to kiss her as the steam continued billowing around them. Before he knew it, he had her pinned against the shower wall standing on one tiptoe with the other leg wrapped around his waist.

"Do you think we can actually do this in here?" he panted, trying to keep at least a shred of his mind straight. "We haven't exactly had a lot of practice yet, and I don't want to hurt you."

"You could never hurt me, Ron. And there is only one way to find out how successful we'll be, I suppose," she smiled.

He felt himself groan and whimper at her response and pulled her second leg up over his arm. She moaned as he entered her, and then threw her head back as he suckled at her nipples. One of her arms was wrapped around his neck as she held on, and the other was threaded into his hair holding his head to her chest. She was moaning in pleasure, whispering, "harder, Ron."

He groaned in delight, shifting her hands up to his neck for extra support against dropping her. Keeping her back to the shower wall he pumped into her as she urged him on. Just as he felt himself getting close to release he felt her back give against the wall and they quickly buckled down the wall together landing in a tumbled heap of wet, naked limbs.

"Ohmigod, fuck- are you ok? I'm so sorry,?" Ron gasped, mortified. "My arms just slipped, and, shite, are you hurt?"

Hermione was smiling, with laughter in her eyes as she tried to move her wet curls away from her face. "Ron, I'm fine. It's ok. Don't worry – I was the one who dragged us in here, remember? And I'm totally fine."

Ron continued to mumble apologies aloud while he silently berated himself in his head. He'd stood to try and turn off the shower spray and thought he was talking to himself.

But, Hermione heard him mutter under his breath, "Oh Merlin, I am terrible at this."

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, "You are most assuredly NOT terrible at this! I would think my opinion counts a little more than yours on this particular issue. And I happen to know you're amazing. We're amazing together."

Ron hid his face in his hand for a moment with his back to her as he fumbled at the taps until Hermione reached up for his hand and tugged him back down to sit with her on the shower floor. She pulled his hands from his face and tried to catch his eye. The room was still filled with the steam from the shower, but she could see him clearly.

"Ron, look at me – please don't be upset. Look –we are both new at this, which I love. And maybe I had us trying something we don't quite have the – uh – technique or skill to master quite yet. But, that's ok. I love you. And I love being with you in this way. And we are going to try things, and some will be amazing, and some won't quite work. And if we can't enjoy it and laugh about it, then that is when we are doing something wrong."

"You're really ok?" he asked, holding his hand to her face and scanning her over with concern. "You're just so tiny, Hermione. All I've ever wanted to do is protect you, and I've been terrified I'll hurt you somehow. And then I go and drop you naked on the floor right in the middle of having sex!"

"Ron, stop. Look - I am more than ok. This past day has been incredible. You have made me feel so amazing – I never knew it was even possible to feel like this. I have never felt more beautiful or sexy or feminine or powerful or desired. It was only a month ago when I could barely look at myself in the mirror. And when I did I saw a skeleton with nothing but awful hair, dark circles under my eyes and skin marred with scars. But now I feel beautiful, which I never believed was possible even before the war. And that is all because of you. And how you look at me, and how you love me. It's amazing. You love me for me, scars and all. And we've come so far together. I mean look at us! We are naked on the floor of a shower having this conversation. I would _never_ have thought I would feel comfortable doing this. I mean – even two weeks ago I couldn't have imagined this. But you have made me feel so treasured and safe, that not only _can_ I do this, but I am enjoying it! And there isn't another soul in the universe I could imagine exploring all of this with. There isn't anyone I trust more. But we have to be ok when it's not perfect – that's just part of it, right?"

Ron listened to her as her words washed over him like a balm. He was so embarrassed when he dropped her it was as if all of the insecurities he thought he had defeated jumped up and seized him around his throat. But here she was, reaching back to him through that abyss of self-doubt and pulling him back to her.

"I love you, Hermione," he said in a small voice.

"I love you too, Ron," she said as she let her fingers lightly graze his stubbly chin.

"And you are so beautiful – in so very many ways."

She smiled and blushed, but didn't look away.

He gave a small chuckle. "It really is rather funny isn't it?"

"Quite," she beamed at him as she started to giggle.

"I'm not saying we won't try that again, but maybe let's stick to dry floors and walls for a bit," he laughed.

"Deal," she smiled. As she leaned in to kiss him, she placed her hand down on the shower floor and managed to slip some more, landing half way in his lap. They both broke into the giggles and he reached his hands on either side of her face and kissed her quite chastely through a big grin. Still laughing, he stood and then helped her out as well, grabbing towels for both of them as they made their way back to the bedroom.

"Good Godric, we're in a bad way," he laughed.

"I hope we never stop laughing together," she said.

"Not a huge risk there. But, yeah - me too," he said.

She sighed contentedly and turned to face him, gently placing her arms around his waist. He smiled sweetly at her and nuzzled her forehead with his nose before placing a kiss on the top of her wet head. Then, just as Hermione thought they were shifting back to a more romantic moment, he surprised her by yanking his towel off from around his waist and suddenly throwing it over her head before rubbing it back and forth to dry her hair mad curls. Hermione shrieked in surprise before dissolving once again into giggles.

They'd enjoyed the day together, making the most out of their last day without George. They'd certainly spent quite a bit of time in bed together, but they also hung out at the hotel together. The cold rainy day allowed them to feel no guilt about staying inside all day. Hermione found a movie channel on TV that showed all three Star Wars movies, so they'd curled up on the sofa together to watch them. He'd loved the Star Wars films, but was shocked when he realized who Luke's father was.

"That's just not on! It would be like when we finally found Voldemort only it turned out his real identity was James Potter all along. That is seriously fucked up," he'd protested. He was sitting on the sofa, his long legs stretched out onto the coffee table while Hermione was laying on the couch with her head in his lap.

"Well, I'm glad James Potter wasn't a sociopath and that Harry didn't get his hand chopped off like Luke..."

"Yeah, but Pettigrew did, the bloody rat."

"Well, ok. But, I'm glad of one part of our life that ended up following the story line."

"Oh yeah? The little furry teddy bear creatures getting equal rights?" he smirked.

"No," she laughed, smacking him with a pillow. "I was actually thinking about how Princess Leia also ended up with the handsome, foul-mouthed hero who for a while was convinced she was with the guy who _was her brother_."

Ron rolled his eyes and then asked, "Does that make me a scruffy looking nerf herder?" failing in his attempt not to laugh as he looked down at her, gently stroking her hair.

"Hmm," she said as she reached for his hand. "I thought I called you the handsome hero. But who knows, maybe a 'nerf herder' is actually like a quidditch keeper, and then, yeah. Absolutely."

"You're barmy, you know that?" he said as he leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway."

"That I do. Us nerf herders like beautiful, barmy birds."

She was laughing as she heard his stomach start growling.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

"Um, how about pizza delivery?"

"Yeah, I meant BRILLIANT, beautiful, barmy birds."

They'd ordered dinner and it managed to come just as the credits to the last of the films started rolling. They were only a few bites in when George showed up, returning from his time in Perth. Ron declared that George had to try the muggle pizza, and soon the three were catching up over dinner. The one-eared wizard regaled them with stories about his adventures in Perth and was incredibly animated describing some of the unique products this wizard had been selling at his shop. Hermione then told George about their trip out to the Great Barrier Reef, and he laughed intensely when they told him about taking gillyweed like Harry had done all those years ago. The three then fell into telling stories of their early Hogwarts days, Hermione feigning outrage as George revealed some of his and Fred's antics she had never caught them at during her years as a prefect. Ron loved that the three of them could now talk about Fred with tears of laughter instead of tears of grief. George seemed to be enjoying it too, even catching Ron's eye at one point and giving him a pointed smile and nod. Eventually they all turned in knowing that their little vacation was ending, and they would all head to the Ministry the following day.

As Ron crawled into bed next to Hermione that night, he found her chewing on her bottom lip.

"You ok?"

"I am just failing at my attempt to not worry about tomorrow until tomorrow," she sighed.

"What can I do?"

"Just hold me tonight, ok? I just…" she let out a shaky breath. "I just want to feel safe in your arms all night long."

"Well, that is one thing I know I can do. Come here," he said as he put out his arms, and she nestled into them. He gently stroked her hair and caressed her arm as she slowly fell asleep. As he thought back over the previous two days, he was amazed with how far they had come. He also found himself strangely relieved that even after transitioning to lovers that they could fall back into being comfortable friends watching muggle movies and laughing at dinner, and now simply holding and comforting one another. It gave him a glimmer of hope that they really may be able to have the best of both worlds.

 _ **(A/N: Thanks so much for sticking with the story so far. I so appreciate your comments and PMs - they are incredibly motivating, I hope you have enjoyed their time off to just heal and relax. Starting in the next chapter they have to go back to facing 'the real world.' And while things are never simple, I hope you appreciate seeing how each step in their journeys helps them to discover more about themselves and each other. What I really hope you see in this story is how each unique character addresses moments of stress or unexpected situations in their own way, as well as how they each try to stretch and understand the other. Thanks again for reading...carrytheotter)**_


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The sun was not fully up when he felt Hermione wake and sneak out of bed. He heard her turn on the shower and just hoped she wasn't in full panic mode yet. He committed himself to doing anything and everything possible to keep her feeling calm and safe today. And knowing that when she got nervous and anxious that things like their messy room could send her over the edge, he got up and tried to straighten things up as their clothes had made their way into every nook and cranny over their time there.

A few minutes later he heard the water shut off, and then Hermione came back into the room with her hair in a towel and wearing both a robe and the expression he had once described as her "Hermione versus the O. " face.

"Good morning. How are you doing?" he asked as he kissed her.

"Well, I haven't had a nervous breakdown yet, but the day is just getting started," she quipped. "I still need to figure out what to wear and review my notes on the spells, and I want to practice the wrist movements some and then re-read the one chapter the book on memory spells if I can before we leave for The Ministry."

"Ok. I am going to hop into the shower and then stay out of your way until you need me, alright? But if there is _anything_ I can do, please let me know, promise?"

She gave a tight nod and turned to figure out her clothes. Ron grabbed a quick shower, and slipped into his khakis and dress shirt. While he felt most comfortable in his denim jeans and trainers, he knew he needed to make a good impression today with the Grangers when they got their memories back. He didn't know what Hermione planned to tell them about their relationship, if anything, but he knew he needed to look like he had his act together. Once he was dressed, he went into the living rooms not to disturb Hermione and was there when George came out of his room.

"How is she doing this morning?" George asked.

"Well, last I checked she had changed clothes four times and was trying to read a last minute chapter on memory side effects or something while practicing the spell reversal. I figured I should stay out here and out of the way."

"Good call."

"I do have some basic self-preservation instincts that can still kick in every now and then."

"Are you ready to meet the parents then?"

"I suppose I have to be. I mean, I've met them before, obviously, but that was – well – before. But, well, I'm not really sure what she plans to tell them about me or us. Hell, we don't even know if it will work, and if it does, how they will react to everything. The 'hey mum and dad, Ron's now my boyfriend' part of the conversation seems like a very small afterthought at this point, don't you think?"

"Right. Well, as your official chaperone, my job is to tag along and keep my mouth shut as much as possible I suppose. I figure you're here to help her, and I'm here to help you – or harass you as the opportunity arises."

A few hours later, the three Brits found themselves back at The Australian Ministry of Magic Office in the same dreary room they had been in two weeks prior. Once again, they waited at a conference table until suddenly the individuals they had seen before, Charlie Hall and Michele Keen, came into the room.

"Did you three enjoy your time in Australia, then?" asked Charlie.

Ron knew Hermione was too nervous to answer, so he chimed in "Oh, yes – very much, thanks. We got to see some really beautiful parts of your country. So different than England. We've really appreciated your hospitality these last few weeks."

Hermione managed a weak smile and a nod.

"Right, well, good. I know you are really wanting to cut to the chase as you have already waited weeks more than you anticipated," said Charlie.

Hermione nodded again.

"Alright then," he continued. "Our aurors trailed your parents' home from the airport last night. They arrived home safely on schedule and seem to have had a lovely time. Your father popped back out to the market last night, and they have both been at their home ever since."

Then Michelle picked up the explanation, "To minimize any anxiety or confusion for your parents, we will drive to their home in a muggle car. It is only about 20 minutes from here. Then I would recommend Hermione and potentially one or both of you knock at the door and convince them to let you in. You will need to confund both of your parents, and then you should have the time to perform the reversals. We will have a healer on call if anything goes wrong, but we really don't anticipate any problems. We will stay with you until we are sure everything is going smoothly, and then we will leave you to get reacquainted with your parents. Do you have any questions of concerns about the plan?"

"No, I think that sounds good," Hermione replied.

Less than half an hour later, they were pulling into the driveway in a non-descript suburb of Sydney. The houses were nice, but nothing with the character of their home in England. The homes seemed newer, but each house looked exactly like the ones on either side. The rain from the day before had cleared, with blue skies reflecting in the many cold puddles the gray clouds had left behind. Hermione had been silent on the drive, chewing her bottom lip and studying her notes on parchment scraps. Ron saw her take a deep breath and close her eyes for a moment before getting out of the car. He stepped out right after her, gave her a hug and told her she would be great.

Ron thought she looked meek somehow, which never sat well with him. She had on a knee length navy skirt with a white blouse and green cardigan, and her hair was pulled back in a loose bun as he had seen in several of their family photos. He thought she looked a bit like a very mature student in a more grown up school uniform, and he wondered if that had been intentional or not, but he thought it best not to ask.

She seemed glued to her spot in the driveway, so he took her hand and squeezed it tightly, saying, "You're going to do great. They're here, Hermione! After searching all that time, they are literally just on the other side of that door."

"Will you come with me?" she asked nervously, still worrying her lower lip.

"Anything you want."

"Maybe George too? I think it would be best if you were both there."

"Sure thing, Granger," George said with a smile as he got out of the car as well. "We'll be right with you the whole time."

She nodded again, smoothed her skirt, and headed up to the front step with the two ginger brothers in tow. Ron tuned and gave a nod to the two Ministry officials who gave encouraging miles and nods. Then he looked back and took one last glance at Hermione before she rang the doorbell and waited nervously. Before he was quite prepared for it, the front door opened, and Hermione immediately froze. She went to speak, but no words came out as she suddenly saw her mother in front of her. Ron reacted quickly.

"So sorry to bother you, but my girlfriend grew up in this house. Her father recently passed away, and we were wondering if we could come in for just a moment to look around? She was hoping to see if there are still marks on the bedroom door showing how much she grew each year that he had drawn years ago."

"Oh dear, I am so sorry about your father. Do come in. We just came back from a trip, so we have suitcases everywhere. I don't recall seeing a height chart, but we will see if it might be there. Hugh, can you come down to the living room a moment?"

The three followed her into the home and to the living room. Ron looked at Hermione, silently urging her to confound her mum. But, he realized that Hermione was still in a stunned silence, almost trance-like as she watched her parents. George gave him a nervous glance, so Ron decided he had no choice but to step in and confund Hermione's mum himself. He had just gotten her to the sofa when Hermione's father walked into the room, and Ron immediately confunded him as well. Then he and George quickly got him on the sofa, but throughout all of this, Hermione remained silent, staring at the two of them as if in a trance. George looked questioningly at his brother, but Ron hardly noticed as he was utterly focused on his witch.

"Hermione? Look at me, love," Ron said calmly but firmly as be approached her. He held her face in his hands so that he looked directly in her eyes. "Hermione? Hermione, I need you to tell me – are you going to do this now? I know you _can_ do it, but you have to decide if you _are_ going to do it right now. Because now is the time. If you aren't going to do it, I will go out and get the Ministry folks and they can handle it. It's your decision. But, I need you to decide right _now_ , love. What do you want to do?"

Hermione nodded absently, but then it was as if her eyes suddenly came into focus and she realized what was going on. After another nod, she took a deep breath and looked Ron in the eye.

"I can do this," she muttered, as if both telling Ron and convincing herself at the same time. "I can do this. I have to do this. Ok." and she took another steadying breath and approached her parents. Within a few moments, she had reversed the spells, and they all collectively held their breaths to see what would happen next. It took a minute or two longer than any of them expected, and everyone was clearly starting to get nervous at the extended silence. But finally both parents started to move a bit and began to wake up in a slightly confused state. Hermione sat wide-eyed on the sofa across from her parents while Ron and George stood off to the side in the doorway to the hall.

"What happened? Jean, what?" muttered her father.

"Where are we? Hermione? Why does my head feel so strange?" responded her mum.

"Mum, Dad, I can explain everything," Hermione said trying hard to fight back tears of relief and terror. "We are all ok, but I need to tell you what has happened. It is rather a long story, so bear with me, ok? But first do you feel ok? Do either of you feel any pain?"

"Pain? What – no wait – let's start with where in the bloody hell are we? And is that Ron Weasley? And who is that with him? I don't remember Harry being a ginger too," rumbled her father still trying to make heads or tails of the situation.

"Yes, you remember Ron Weasley, and this is his brother George, and we are all in Sydney, Australia."

"AUSTRALIA?!" boomed her parents together.

"You better explain quickly, young lady, as I feel I am about to lose all restraint," her father bellowed.

Hermione began to explain how Voldemort had returned, and how Dumbledore had been murdered.

"Murdered? I thought he had a heart attack," said her mum.

"Well," Hermione said timidly. "I never actually corrected your assumption, Mum. I am sorry. It was all just so scary, and I didn't think you'd let me go back to Hogwarts if you had known the truth."

"You're damn right you wouldn't have returned," her father muttered.

"Well, so eventually it became clear that Harry had to be the one to end this. And he wasn't going to return to school for our seventh year so he could go after Voldemort."

"But he's just a child! And to take that on all alone is so foolish! Practically suicide," her mum exclaimed.

"Exactly. So, Ron and I had to go with him."

"WHAT?" they both cried.

"I knew we had to. I knew it more certainly than anything I have ever known. Harry could not have done it without both of us. But, I knew I couldn't risk the two of you being hurt, and I didn't know how to get you to understand the danger you were in. And I knew you would never agree to let me go, so I had to put you into hiding to keep you safe."

"I don't understand. You make this sound like it is in the past," said her mother.

Hermione looked a bit tearful, but then said, "I did something I had promised I would never do. I am sorry I violated your trust in me, but I modified your memories. I made you think you were the Wilkins, and I made you think you wanted to move to Australia, and..." here she hesitated and looked at her father whose face was growing a deeper shade of purple and red by the minute. She took a deep breath and failed to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes over her cheek as she said, "and I made you forget you ever had a daughter."

"WHAT!?" screamed her father.

"Oh Hermione, how could you?" her mother cried as the tears came down her face.

"I am _so sorry_ I betrayed your trust, but I am not sorry I did it. It was the only way to keep you safe and defeat Voldemort at the same time."

Her father was now pacing around the living room while her mum sobbed on the couch. George looked at Ron with wide eyes, and Ron returned the look with a miniscule shrug of his shoulders, but said nothing. Hermione was crying now as well and had begun trembling slightly as she sat motionless, head bowed down, only able to stare at her clasped hands in her lap.

"What in the bloody hell gave you the right to interfere with our memories – to decide what was best for us? We are grown adults!"

"Dad, it was the only way. I had to be there for Harry," she looked up at Ron. "We both did. He could not have done it without us. But, we won! It took the whole year, but Voldemort was destroyed, and we are all safe again. And I came here as soon as we knew where you were to come bring your memories back. We got here two weeks ago, and the Ministry folks said you had just left on your New Zealand trip. So, we have been waiting for you to return."

"We were being followed on our vacation?" her mum gasped.

"Mum, I am so sorry to have put you through this. But, I knew I couldn't help Harry if you two were at risk."

"Hermione Jean Granger," her father barked. "I CANNOT believe we ever agreed to send you off to that ridiculous school to begin with. They somehow convinced you that you were some magical savior and then you erased our memories and went off to play hero? I wish we had sent that mad Scottish witch packing the day she showed up at our door with that damn letter."

Ron and George both gaped at this description of McGonagall, and Ron worried where her father's train of thought was headed.

"I can't regret who I am, Dad. I was born a witch," said Hermione softly. Then she added in an even meeker voice, "And as it turns out, I am quite good at it."

"Understatement of the century," mumbled George under his breath. Only Ron heard him, and he gave him a silent, agreeing nod.

"And, we didn't _play hero,"_ she continued in a flat, defeated tone while still looking at her lap. "It was an awful, difficult, terrible, horrid year. But we did it, and I am proud to say I played at least some small part in bringing down the darkest wizard of all time."

"Another extreme understatement," whispered George to his brother. This time Ron ignored him as his eyes remained locked on Hermione who seemed to be shrinking into herself as she started to dissolve on the couch.

"And I am sorry you two are so angry, but I had to do it, and now I had to undo it. I am really glad you are both alive and safe."

Tears were now spilling out of her eyes, and Ron walked over to sit by her on the couch, putting his arm around her to try and comfort her as she cried.

"What's this, now? Are you together?" barked her father. "Was this all some ploy so you two could off and play at some sodding romantic fairytale?"

"Daddy, please understand," she said finally looking up again. "Yes, Ron and I are together, but only since everything ended. It has been a truly awful experience, and he has helped me tremendously."

"I think you two magical gingers need to leave right now," stormed her father. "I don't know what you have done to my daughter to make her believe all this nonsense. How do I know you haven't altered her mind too to make her believe all this, this, this magical malarkey!"

"Daddy! Stop. I am telling you the truth. The Weasleys have done nothing but been helpful and supportive through all of this, and I truthfully would be dead without them. I am sorry this has all happened. Really, I am for so many reasons, but it is the truth."

"You're MAD! All of you. And you have taken my brilliant daughter with you into your magical make-believe world," her father bellowed while her mother continued to sob quietly on the couch. "You've turned her into some manipulative, lying mind-thief who turned against her own parents!"

Ron had had just about enough. He felt himself standing up to meet the fuming man face to face before he was even aware of what he was doing.

"Sir! That's enough," Ron declared as he fought off the ingrained instinct to draw his wand. He was trying hard not to scream at the red-faced man only inches from his face. Swallowing in a brief attempt to hold on to his composure he continued in a steely voice that left no room for doubt. "Hermione has been through too much, and suffered too much and sacrificed too much to be treated the way you are treating her right now by anyone, but especially by her parents. You have _no idea_ what she has done – how she has saved your life – both of your lives. I know it is hard to understand, but it is the truth."

"Saved our lives? By making us forget who we are? That she even existed? How do you expect me to trust a single word you are saying?"

"Hermione has been worried about you since the day she had to send you away. It crushed her, and it was one of the most amazing acts of sacrificial love I have ever witnessed. You have _no idea_ what your daughter has endured." Ron took a deep breath, remembering before he continued, "And I have had to watch her suffer _unbearable_ pain over this past year, and I cannot and will not sit here one more minute while you make her suffer more, not when I can do something about it." He turned to Hermione, "Let's go, love."

Hermione simply nodded through the tears. She stood shakily with him to leave, turned to her parents and whispered, "I am so desperately sorry, and I do love you both so very much. I am really glad you are safe."

With that, Ron and Hermione left through the front door with George following quickly on their heels leaving Hermione's mum sobbing on the couch and her father red-faced and mouth gaping standing in the living room. Ron let Michelle know they were apparating back to the hotel and that George would fill her in on everything else. With that he held her tightly to his chest, and then they were gone.

When they landed back in the hotel room, Hermione collapsed into Ron's arms in sobs. He picked her up gently and carried her back to the bedroom where he tucked her gently into the bed. She was curled up in the fetal position crying and shaking with grief and shock.

"Hermione, it's going to be ok," he tried to offer. "It was just the first day. You found them. They're safe and healthy, and you successfully reversed the spell! They are ok, and that was all thanks to you. You weren't even convinced we'd get this far, but you did it! Let's give them some time to adjust to everything and then we can try again. They are probably still in a state of shock."

He continued to stroke her hair, and she just fell deeper into the well of grief as Ron watched helplessly.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

George had swiftly followed his younger brother out of the front door and caught Michelle up on what had happened. She asked him if he was ok to get back to the hotel on his own, and he assured her he was. She thanked him, and she promised to follow up with them the following day at the hotel. She promised she'd talk to the Grangers and give them a way to contact the healers if they noticed any physical side effects from the memory reversal or had any other problems the Ministry could assist with. George apologized for the state she would find the Grangers in. She assured him it was all part of the job, and she promised him she wouldn't use magic on them at all. He thanked her, and with that, George turned and apperated away as well. But he did not return to the hotel. Instead, he found himself in the alleyway behind Rocks' shop on Declan Row. He decided to walk a bit to clear his head from all he had just witnessed and figure out the best next steps.

He was so hurt for Hermione, and for Ron. But he was also furious. He was surprised at how much anger he had towards Hermione's parents. How could they not forgive her? She had saved their lives. He'd known she'd struggled since the war, but seeing Hermione Granger small and meek like that on the sofa had messed with his head. He kept hearing her small voice trying to explain how she was "quite good" at being a witch and had played a "small part" in winning the war. Utter bollocks! She may be too uptight and a pain his arse at times, but she was a fucking brilliant witch and there were few witches or wizards of any age he'd met that were as fierce and brave and brilliant as that rule-following bookworm who he was sure would be his future sister in law. And to see her reduced to such a state was heartbreaking. How on earth did someone that brilliant and wonderful have such mean idiots for parents?

"I don't get it Freddie," he said aloud as he walked. "What am I missing?"

No words came, and no pictures came to his mind, which in some ways disappointed him. He'd gotten in a habit of trying to picture what Fred would have said and then at least being able to think through something, but when he hit silence again, he was left to struggle on his own.

He kept walking along Declan Row and tried to figure out the missing piece. It just didn't make sense. How could someone who was brilliant and kind and brave come from a family that seemed ignorant, closed-minded and mean? It didn't add up. There was no doubt Hermione was stubborn and had a wicked temper – it was clear she got at least that from her father. And he'd definitely seen her jump to conclusions a little too quickly, also apparently a family trait. But he'd never seen her lose her temper without good reason. So, maybe he needed to think like her father. So, as he walked, he tried to imagine if he had a child someday who was a squib and came home with a crazy tale of a muggle war where she had to be a hero. He knew he wouldn't understand either.

And that is when he was struck with an idea. An idea that was either brilliant or disastrous. But the line between the two was often fuzzy, and he was George Fucking Weasley, so he went with it. With a grin he turned and headed straight to the two shops where he could get what he needed to pull it off.

Within an hour, he was standing again on the Grangers' front step in the non-descript muggle suburb. This time he was alone, save the two brown paper bags he carried. He decided to ring the bell before he could change his mind. Hermione's father answered the door, and immediately began to go red in the face.

"What do you want now? Come to change my memory into something else?" he growled.

"No, sir, not at all," he responded, utterly un-phased by fury coming off of the man. "Look, can I come in for a moment? It's just me. Ron and Hermione are back at the hotel and have no idea I am even here. She'd probably kill me if she knew I had come here at all."

"Let him in," said a quiet voice in the hallway. "I want to hear what he has to say."

Mr. Granger sighed, resigned himself to having to talk to him and opened the door. George nodded his thanks, stepped through the door and made his way back into the living room they'd been in only a few hours before. The two angry and hurt muggles sat across from him, staring at him expectantly.

"Look," he said as he placed the two bags on the coffee table. "I have spent the last hour trying to put myself in your shoes to understand how hard this must all be. But, I have never had a daughter and never had to endure that kind of betrayal, so I really can't even pretend to imagine what you must be feeling right now. But, what I am sure of is that if I were in your shoes, I would need a stiff drink or two. So, with that in mind, so I come bearing gifts. I have a bottle of muggle scotch and some fine Australian Firewhisky, and I am hoping you will help yourself to some of one or both of them and hear me out."

"We will do no such thing..."started Mr. Granger, but he was soon cut off by his wife.

"Thank you, George. We will _absolutely_ hear what you have to say. Give me a moment, and I will get some glasses."

As she left, George sat on the sofa while Mr. Granger just stood near him eying him like a dangerous intruder. But she returned before he could say anything else.

"Look," Mrs. Granger said, "I have had a bit of time to calm down from the shock of - well – everything, I suppose. I don't claim to be remotely ready to forgive what has happened, but I do know I need to understand what all has gone on. Are you going to help with that, young man?"

"I'll try, ma'am," admitted George. "I have to be honest with you. I wasn't with them all last year, so I can't tell you everything that has happened. And, since the end of it, well, I haven't exactly been well recently, so I haven't caught up on everything myself. But, I probably understand a lot more than you do, so it can be a damn good start."

"Good. Sit down, Hugh. Pour everyone a drink. We will hear the boy out."

Mr. Granger did as his wife had instructed and poured healthy servings of Scotch into each of the glasses, and soon George started into the backstory. He started off by describing Bill and Fleur's wedding and how it had been attacked by the Death Eaters but that Hermione's forethought had seemed to save the three of them. He explained how muggle-borns like Hermione were being rounded up and murdered or sent to prison, and how their families were destroyed.

"But surely if Hermione had just stayed home with us it would have been ok," protested Mr. Granger.

"I wish it was that simple, sir," replied George. "But you would have all been killed."

"Ridiculous," he scoffed.

"Well, from what I have learned, the Death Eaters actually did go to your house looking for her and for you, and thoroughly ransacked it as well. If you had been there, you would absolutely have been killed if not kidnapped and tortured for information on Hermione first. Ron said that despite all of the protective charms Hermione put on it, they still managed to get in and leave multiple traps that would have triggered if you had gone home. They even scrawled a message in blood on your living room wall taunting Hermione."

Mrs. Granger visibly paled at this, and poured herself a second drink with her wide eyes never leaving George's face.

"Hermione was right to get you out of there. She wasn't just any muggle born witch – she was being hunted. There were posters of her everywhere all over the country listed as 'Undesirable Number 2.' There was a large bounty on her head, and gangs of people were roaming the country looking to kill or capture her."

"Impossible," whispered Mr. Granger as he poured himself a second drink as well.

"Well, whether you think it could or couldn't be – it was. She outranked Ron too – he was only Undesirable Number 3. Harry was number one, of course. Everyone knows how brilliant your daughter is. Harry couldn't have pulled it all off without her. I owe her my life."

"Hermione. Our Hermione? Our little bookworm on a wanted poster?" gaped Mrs. Granger.

"Yes. That's the one. And it was a really good picture of her too, by the way. Her hair wasn't too crazy in it."

Mrs. Granger gawked at this bizarre commentary to the bizarre story, but George continued without missing a beat.

"So, the three of them went out on this crazy mission. They wouldn't tell anyone what it was – and I still don't really know to be honest. My parents were furious, but there was nothing they could do either, we didn't know where they were. And, from what they've mentioned it sounded like they lived in a nasty tent and had to move every few days to avoid capture. But, like I said, we had no idea where they were and didn't hear from them at all after the wedding. There was a break in at the Ministry several weeks later that we thought could have been them, but we didn't know for sure."

"Your poor mother," whispered Mrs. Granger.

"Well, ok – this is going to be hard to hear, and I know none of the details – but I know the three of them were caught at some point around Easter. And, from what Ron has told me, Hermione was tortured quite badly."

"Oh my God," gasped Mrs. Granger.

"No, not my little girl..." cried Mr. Granger, the glass in his hand clunking to the table.

"Well, from what I understand, your _little girl_ was amazing. She survived the most painful torturing curses that exist in our world – more than anyone ever has. Ever. And I believe there was some muggle torture as well, as she has some scars still. Truthfully, no one can understand how she didn't die or go insane. And through it she never broke and never gave up the information they were looking for."

Mrs. Granger was sobbing again at this point, and Mr. Granger simply stared pale faced at George.

"From what I understand, Ron broke out of a dungeon or something and managed to get to Hermione and rescue her at the last second. She had lost consciousness by then and doesn't remember it herself. They escaped to my older brother's house where they were eventually able to revive her. But, I think it was pretty touch and go there for a while. She seems fine from the outside now. But, uh, I think she still struggles a lot from all of that. She can't sleep without nightmares anymore. And, well, I think Ron is the only one who can even wake her from them. They really do rely on each other a lot right now."

"Oh, God. That boy saved my little girl's life, and I threw him out of my house," cried Mr. Granger, who at the point had tears spilling down his shocked face.

"Yup. You did. Not your finest moment I would presume, but, you clearly didn't have the whole story so don't beat yourself up too bad, yeah? So, anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah, so they apparently stayed with my older brother at a safe house for a month or so while Hermione recovered and they planned the last part of the mission, which was bloody brilliant. They figured out how to break into Gringotts, which had never been done, steal this secret object and get out alive."

"Wait, what? Are you saying Hermione robbed a bank?" her mum asked in disbelief.

"Um, yeah – technically I suppose. But she didn't steal any money. Just this secret evil object thing they needed to kill Voldemort. Oh, well, and I guess they stole the dragon they escaped on."

"Right – no money. Just dragons and evil objects," Mrs. Granger replied almost laughing in shock at this point. "Totally different. Let me refill this drink again and please continue. Hermione had healed from torture, robbed a bank of no money and stole a dragon...then what? Leprachauns?"

"Leprachauns? No. Why would they come? They didn't go to Ireland at all – just England, Scotland and Wales I think."

"Right, right," she laughed, slightly hysterical, as she took another drink. "Of course. Silly me. No leprachauns in ENGLAND. Whatever was I thinking? So – well – oh bloody hell, George – just tell us what happened!"

"Right – yeah. So, eventually everything came to a head at a giant battle at Hogwarts," George continued.

"At the school, with the children?" gasped Mr. Granger.

"Yes. There was enough time to get the little ones out, but many of the older kids stayed and fought. Hermione and Ron among them. And, and that's when we caught up with them as well."

"You were there?" Mrs. Granger asked quietly.

"Yes," George replied as he took his turn downing a stiff drink. "My, uh, whole family arrived then to help out. But, but..." his voice broke. He closed his eyes and tried not to breakdown. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly before he continued. "But my twin brother, Fred, didn't survive. He was killed there in the middle of the battle."

Mrs. Granger gasped and covered her mouth while Mr. Granger replied, "Oh God, I am so sorry, son. We had no idea."

"Thank you," he said as his voice cracked and he took another swig of the drink. "And, I know. I know you didn't have any idea. Anyone who could raise a daughter as outstanding as Hermione would not have reacted like you did a few hours ago if you had any idea what you were talking about. And _that_ is why I came back here."

They nodded and kept crying, so George continued, "At the battle we all thought Harry had been killed, but somehow he survived and ended up killing Voldemort in the process. We had won, but we lost so many loved ones that day, not just Fred. School friends, teachers. Too many to name right now."

"Oh your poor parents," Mrs. Granger sobbed.

"Well after all of that we all returned home – we hadn't been able to live there for a while as there had been people trying to kill us on account of Ron being on the run with Harry and Hermione. Anyway, we went home, and I basically lived in my room for weeks. As you can imagine, losing Fred has been especially difficult for me. I did some stupid stuff to try and numb that pain. And, well, Ron rescued me from accidentally killing myself – please don't mention THAT to my parents, they have enough going on. Mum has struggled too. I think Ron's basically been keeping everything going – even cooking, even if it was terrible having bacon sandwiches so many meals in a row. Anyway, that's when he asked me to come here with them so they could have a chaperone of sorts when they came to get you. You see, he was worried about how you would react if it was just the two of them once you realized they were together. And, for the record, please don't let Ron know I have told you how he is actually an incredibly good bloke. It will totally take away any of my ability as his older brother to take the piss, you know?"

Mrs. Granger just stared at him quizzically, not at all sure what to make him, so she nodded blankly simply trying to absorb everything he had said.

"Oh God, I have royally screwed this up, haven't I?" cried Mr. Granger, place his face down in his hands.

"Well – yeah. To be blunt, you buggered it up pretty spectacularly. But, forgiveness seems to be the theme of the day, doesn't it, mate?"

The two Grangers just gaped back at the odd ginger, one-eared wizard in their living room.

Un-phased, George pressed on. "Right, so, here is what I suggest. Knowing Hermione and Ron like I do, she is probably sobbing hysterically at the hotel right now, and he is probably pulling his hair out trying to calm her down and reassure her that you two will come around eventually and convince her to be happy that she was able to get the spell safely reversed at all. And yeah - you probably don't realize that part either. What she did – that is _incredibly_ complex magic. I've never even heard of it being attempted before. But, being the most brilliant and powerful witch _ever_ she not only figured out how to do it but also how to undo it safely. Bloody brilliant daughter you have."

"I need to see her," said Mrs. Granger.

"Yes, where are you staying? Can we go there now?" chimed Mr. Granger.

"Well, we could. But, don't you think Hermione needs to calm down a bit, too? She is still as brilliant and strong-willed as the little girl you've always known, but she is definitely much more emotionally fragile than I ever knew her to be. The last year, and the last few months especially – they have been very difficult on her."

"OK, so what are you proposing?" asked her father.

"Why don't I head back now - give you two time to get your minds around things. Give her some time to calm down, and then you two come to the hotel at supper time. Why don't you bring some take-away with you – the hotel is set up like a suite so there is a dining table there. Then there is no concern of discussing all of this in a restaurant with muggle ears all around, you know?"

Mrs. Granger nodded. "Yes, that is a better plan. Thank you, George. Thank you for coming back and making us understand. It has been quite a shock for us, you know. One minute we are the Wilkins, and the next minute we aren't, and then we learn that the daughter we forgot even existed was in grave danger that we couldn't comprehend. Thank you for persisting 'til we could come around."

"Right. You're welcome. Well, I'll write down the hotel details, and then we'll see you later tonight. Um – I wouldn't push Hermione on the details of everything if I were you. From what I understand, she hasn't talked about the torture with anyone who wasn't there. Ron just told me because I was coming with them on this trip, so I needed to understand the whole nightmare situation. She'll tell you about things when she's ready, you know? But, go slow – let her set the pace, alright?"

"OK," said Mrs. Granger now crying again. "We will. We promise. Anything to help our little girl. We'll see you later, George."

Mr. Granger stood to shake his hand, and after that, George disapperated straight from their front hall back to the hotel.

When he landed back in the hotel living room, he found the place strangely quiet. He had expected to hear Hermione crying, but he heard nothing. Standing there straining his one ear to listen better he shortly heard rustling behind the door, and Ron came tip-toing out of their bedroom from hearing the pop of apparation.

"Hey," he whispered as he quietly shut the door to their bedroom.

"How is she?" George asked. "And how are you?"

"Well, she finally cried herself to sleep about half an hour ago. I don't know what to do George, it's killing me to see her this broken again after I feel like she was finally getting patched back together," Ron said as tears started coming to his eyes.

"Well, I might have some good news for you," said George. "I – well – I went and did something I probably shouldn't have, but I think it's ended up pretty good in the end."

"What did you do?" asked Ron with a terrified expression on his face.

"Well, after I left I went and thought all this over a bit. I just couldn't figure out how two people who were as horrible as the two muggles we had just seen could possibly raise such an incredible daughter. So, I figured they just really had missed the entire fucking point. And, that if it were me, and I had some squib daughter who came home telling me that she had erased my memory so she could be a hero in some muggle war I would have flipped my shite completely and would have needed to get seriously drunk."

"Oh, Merlin. What did you do?" asked Ron looking even more petrified at this point.

"Well, I bought a bottle of scotch and a bottle of Firewhisky, and I went back to the Grangers' house."

"GEORGE!" Ron said as loudly as he dared to without fear of waking Hermione. "What the hell?"

"I know, I know. Terrible plan, right? But, get this – it worked."

"What do you mean 'it worked?'" asked Ron hesitantly.

"They heard me out. They had a few stiff drinks, steadied their nerves and listened to what I had to say. Her dad was ready to chuck me back out initially, but her mum intervened and they let me talk. Eventually they understood a lot more. I told them about Death Eaters crashing Bill and Fleur's wedding, about you guys going on the run on some secret mission, about Hermione being 'Undesirable Number 2' – which totally beat your 'Undesirable Number 3' status, may I just say, about their house being destroyed and covered in messages written in blood, about the battle and about Fred. I couldn't tell them everything, because I wasn't there and still don't understand it all. But, um, they know Hermione has saved both of our arses. And they know you saved hers."

"Oh, Merlin, George, you didn't tell them..."

"Well, I couldn't tell them much as I don't know much to begin with. But, I explained that you were all wanted by The Ministry and that you eventually got captured. I told them that from what I understood she had been tortured pretty horribly, but that she somehow managed to not only survive but to not break. And, I told them you busted out of a cell or dungeon or what have you and whisked her off to safety, which definitely increased your credibility in her dad's eyes to be sure. You're welcome, by the way. But I also told them not to ask her about it. I let them know she is a little more fragile than the daughter they remember, and to let her share at her own pace."

"Oh, Merlin"

"It's going to be ok, Ron."

"What do I tell Hermione? She's gonna kill me. She's scary like that, you know? No, she's going to kill _you_ and _then_ she's going to kill me for bringing you. Wow, um, ok, so now what? Do we maybe try to go back tomorrow and see if she can talk to them again, you think?"

"Well, actually, her mum was wanting to come back straight away with me, but I think I put them off 'til at least dinner time. I suggested they bring take away here and they agreed – they'll be here in a few hours."

"Holy shite."

"Well, holy or not, it's happening, Ronniekins. So, you and I need to straighten this place up a bit before your future in-laws show up. And then in a while you need to go wake her up and let her pull herself together before they come back."

"Holy shite."

"Yes, Ronniekins, you mentioned that. Maybe I should have brought the Firewhisky for you, huh?"

"Uh, maybe," Ron muttered. "Actually, well – thanks. For going back I mean. Maybe this is going to work after all, huh? I mean, Hermione is still going to hex both of our bollocks off."

"Well, I don't know, she's become rather attached to yours, don't you think?"

"Piss off, George."

"Right, well, maybe I will take off a bit and pop round to see Rocks for an hour or so. You can clean this mess up here, and deliver the news to your ever-so-complicated bird. And I will be back before the Grangers get here with some dinner."

With that, George apperated away, leaving a somewhat stunned Ron in the middle of the messy hotel suite. He looked around at the stack of pizza boxes from the previous night and the other refuse of their trip, sighed deeply, and plopped onto the couch shaking his head. Within an hour, he had the living space pristinely clean, having vanished anything that even hinted at anything inappropriate. He made a mental note to make sure all of his stuff was hidden in the bedroom as well on the off chance one of her parents had to go in there to get to the loo. Her parents might finally be coming around, and he wasn't about to let them find out they were sleeping together and screw everything up.

A few minutes after he finished cleaning the living room, he heard Hermione stirring in the room next door. He went in quietly to see if she was having a nightmare or if she was waking up. When he found her, she was awake and staring blankly into the wall beside the bed, eyes still red and crusted with salt from crying.

"Hey there, love," he whispered gently. "Did you sleep well?" With that he spooned up behind her, pulling her tightly to him. She nuzzled into him, but didn't reply.

"Actually, there have been some, uh, developments while you were asleep."

She looked at him quizzically.

"So, you know my reckless, doesn't-think-before-he-acts-older brother that we have here as our theoretical chaperone?"

Hermione's jaw clenched as her eyebrow went up in an expression that took Ron immediately back to the days when he and Harry would sneak out in the invisibility cloak only to be reprimanded by Hermione later. Somehow that look could still stoke fear in him even when he wasn't the object of her fury.

"Well, as it turns out, he thought your parents may have been a bit too shocked earlier to really process everything."

"What did he do?" she gasped as she sat straight up in the bed.

"Um. He may have taken a couple of bottles of strong alcohol back to your parents' home and encouraged them to hear him out," Ron cringed, trying to get the whole thing out in one breath.

"RON!"

"I swear, I had no idea – really. But, he came back while you were asleep, and apparently his cockamamie plan actually worked."

"What?" she gasped disbelievingly.

"Again – I wasn't there. But, he said that he talked to them and helped them understand a bit better, and then..."

"Then what?"

Ron hesitated.

"THEN WHAT, RON?"

"Then he apparently suggested that they show up here with take away for dinner."

"GEORGE!" she screamed bolting out of bed and into the other room. "GEORGE! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

"Um, yeah, about that – he left. I think he sort of anticipated this reaction from you, so he went to go see Rocks."

"I'm going to kill your brother."

"Yes, I mentioned to him that was a strong possibility."

"I mean – it's great, I think. But I am definitely going to kill him."

"Pretty much my reaction."

"Merlin, Ron, we have to clean up. What if my parents see our stuff together in here? I am not ready for THAT conversation on top of everything else."

"Way ahead of you, love. The living room is cleaned up. All we have to do is hide my stuff in here and triple check the bathroom looks like a ladies-only room and we should be ok."

"Oh," she relaxed a bit at this. "Good, good. Ok. Thanks. Well – um, I guess I need to get cleaned up a bit. Did he say what time?"

"All he said was supper time."

"I'm going to kill him."

"I know, love. I know."

"Alright, I'm going to take a quick shower."

"OK- you do that. I will vanish all traces of my existence in here while you do that."

"And, Ron," she called.

"Yeah, love?"

"Thanks," she said. "I really am so lucky to have you." With that she kissed him tenderly and headed off to the shower.

"She's going to be the death of me, that one," Ron muttered. And then he quickly cleaned up the bedroom, hiding all evidence that he'd ever so much as stepped foot in that room, let alone everything else he and Hermione had gotten up to in there. And with that, a smiling but red-eared Ron got to cleaning.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Hermione had only just finished getting ready, and Ron had triple checked the bedroom and bathroom for any evidence that he had been there when they heard the door opening. With that, George walked in with both Hermione's parents.

"Look who I found in the hotel lobby," he said as he ushered them into the room.

Ron simply smiled, but was thinking that his brother was too chicken to come back up and face Hermione and had probably been hiding in the lobby waiting for his muggle shields to come in.

"Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad," Hermione said meekly. Ron felt her lean closer into him and he placed his hand gently on her back for support.

"Hermione," her mum said. "I am so sorry about our reactions earlier. We really were in a bit of a state of shock and really didn't grasp everything. George has helped us understand some more, though – I must say there are still many large gaps I am hoping we can fill in at some point."

"We are so sorry, pumpkin," said her father. "Really, as a father I just went a bit mad when I realized I couldn't protect you from all the danger you faced this year. I am so sorry. Can you forgive us?"

"Yes, of course," she replied. "And I am hoping some day you can forgive me as well. I know it might not be today, but I really need to know that there is hope you might be able to do so in the future."

"Oh, darling, we love you so much. We do forgive you. I think I know you well enough to know you would never, ever do anything to harm us on purpose."

"Oh, Mum!" Hermione called as she embraced her mother in tears. Mr. Granger soon joined in. Ron looked at George and mouthed, "thanks," and George simply smiled and nodded.

Ron and George asked if they wanted to be left just the three of them for a bit, but the three Grangers would hear nothing of it. Soon, the five of them then sat in living room and started sharing the Chinese take-away that the Grangers had brought. Ron and George delighted at yet another amazing muggle style of food that they could add to their repertoire. As the evening went on, Ron and Hermione shared more about the year on the run. They skimmed over Malfoy Manor, but Mr. Granger had caught Ron's eye at that point and gave him a nod indicating he understood and appreciated what Ron had done. They also spent time talking about the year Hermione's parents had spent as the Wilkins in Australia, and how much they had enjoyed teaching instead of working in a dental surgery. Finally, they shared all about their trip to New Zealand.

After dinner, the conversation drifted to how Hermione had managed to move their whole life to Australia. Her parents were a little stunned at all of the details she had managed to take care of. Their investments were still in place, their old practice was being managed by a visiting dentist from America, and the grass had even been cut while Mr. Fitzugh had been paid out of a trust account, although Hermione admitted that had been the security flaw she had overlooked in the whole set up. She let them know that they had gone to see the house and had restored everything, including new carpet and drapes where they were needed.

"So, once you decide what you want to do, the choice is yours. Obviously, this is a lot of information to take in all at once. You don't need to decide anything right now. But, the house is ready and waiting for you. And the American dentist can stay through Christmas, although he is aware that if you choose to come back earlier you will probably transition back into the office sooner as well." Hermione offered.

"Wow. You really handled every detail, didn't you?" said her mum.

"I know I took so much out of your control. I hope you will come back to England, but if and when and how is all your decision. But it is there if you want it."

"Well, we can't solve all the problems of the world tonight. We have to go to work tomorrow for the start of a new term. While part of me would love to head back to England straight away, we need to talk with the school and figure out everything there. We can't just abandon the students without making sure they are taken care of as well," replied her dad.

"Of course. I know it will take a while. I am just so relieved to have you back as yourselves. And so happy you are able to accept all of this. As I said to Mrs. Weasley, I have lived it all, and I don't totally understand it, so I am sure it is incredibly overwhelming."

The Grangers stood to go, and Ron and George stepped aside so they could have a bit of a private family moment. As they finished, Mrs. Granger hugged Ron and kissed his cheek as well, causing his ears to blush. Then she hugged George, thanking him again for not giving up on them.

Mr. Granger shook Ron's hand firmly saying, "I am so sorry about earlier, son. Your brother helped me understand a lot, and I just – I just want to thank you for taking care of her."

"Of course, sir," Ron said. "We took care of each other, I suppose."

"Well, like I said, thank you. I am forever grateful for you bringing her home to us," Mr. Granger said while Ron simply nodded in reply, trying to control his emotions while his mind tried to play through painful images he didn't want to see.

And with that, the Grangers headed home for the night with promises to get in touch after work the following evening.

"You would think I would start getting used to these days that feel like you fit in an entire lifetime of emotions between waking up and going to bed," Hermione laughed as she got into bed that evening.

"Well, I know we've had several of these roller coaster days in the past few months, but I for one am thoroughly drained by them. Those of us with an emotional range of a teaspoon cannot possibly keep up when we have days like today."

"Actually," she said as she snuggled into his torso, "I think you were absolutely amazing today."

"No. George was amazing today. I mean, he's totally aggravating, but you can't deny that it worked."

"Well, yes. George was amazing. So amazing that I have decided not to hex him after all. But, actually I was talking about you. This morning when I froze, you not only confunded my parents, but once again you knew exactly how to handle me and talk me back into my own head. And then when things got out of control, you intervened and got me out of there and back to a place where I could feel safe and regain my composure. And that, my dear, is why I was talking about you being amazing."

Ron still didn't quite know how to feel when Hermione paid him a compliment like that. Part of him kept waiting for the "but" to sneak in, and part of him always wanted to pass the credit off to others or to luck. He listened to her as she spoke, but really didn't know how to respond. He simply held her tighter and kissed her forehead.

"One of these days, Ron Weasley, I will figure out how to manage to have you see yourself as I see you. A master at understanding people, a brilliant strategist who is able to think on his feet better than anyone I know, a loyal and loving soul who is completely dedicated to the ones he loves, and an incredibly handsome man who manages to make me weak in the knees."

Ron again couldn't find any words to reply to Hermione's praise. He simply closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead even tighter to the mass of curls in front of him. He was so grateful to be with her, but in so many ways he still did not feel worthy. He still felt as if he had abandoned her, and kept trying to believe he could be deserving of such love.

As if she could read his mind, Hermione turned so that she was now facing him. While his eyes were still shut, she propped herself up on her elbow and kissed his forehead, and then his cheek, and then his neck whispering "so loyal, so kind, so brilliant, so passionate, so loving, so dedicated, so quick thinking…"

He was overwhelmed by this outpouring love, and he felt a tear escape his eye, which she quickly kissed away. He didn't want to have another breakdown like he'd had at the magical rock at Uluru. So, he tried to calm himself through several slow breaths. As she continued to kiss him, it was a different sensation for him. It didn't feel like sexual foreplay as much as it felt like some form of forgiveness or blessing. And so he just tried to receive it from her.

Finally, he opened his eyes. Holding her stare he whispered, "I love you Hermione. Because of you I want to be a better person. And with you I am a better person. Each day. I can feel it. And one of these days I hope to see in me what you see. And I hope to live up to what you see. But no matter whether I feel I can achieve that or not, I am so grateful to be here with you."

"Oh Ron," she whispered, and then moved her kisses to his mouth. Soon, he was responding in kind. His hands gently tracing her facial features. Her fingers brushing his red locks away from his face. They were kissing slowly, not the mad passion from the day they had spent in bed, but sweet, tender kisses communicating the love that had underplayed all of the passion from the days before. Eventually they slowed, and fell asleep in each other's arms.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

It took several days, but soon the Grangers had determined that they were going to stay in Sydney through the end of the school year in December. This would allow them to continue working with the students they had been teaching while also allowing the dental school plenty of time to recruit new teachers. It would also allow the American dentist serving at their dental surgery back in England to continue working until he was scheduled to return home at Christmas.

Hermione had initially been sad that her parents wouldn't be returning with them to England. But soon she came to realize that it might work for the best, as she didn't feel like she would be able to stay at her parents' home without Ron for very long anyway. This would allow them to return to England and get settled in a new routine of her commuting to Hogwarts and Ron working at the joke shop before her parents came back.

They had decided to stay in Australia through the next two weekends in order for Hermione to spend as much time as possible with her parents before she left for England. It would also allow George to spend additional time with Rocks in the shop as well as give Ron a chance to join them as well.

They'd let the Ministry know they could stop the hotel so they could move to less expensive lodgings, but they would hear nothing of it and insisted they stay as long as they needed. Hermione tried to protest, but the Australian Auror Department instead said they insisted on covering the hotel, but if Ron and Hermione wanted to come take a picture with them before they went back to England they would love a chance to meet them. So, they promised to do that at the end of their time there so no pictures of them would get out accidentally before they could leave the country.

Today was going to be the first day Ron would spend the day at the shop with George and Rocks. Mrs. Granger had taken the day off work, and she and Hermione were going to spend the day together shopping, getting manicures and pedicures and doing other girlie things Ron wanted no part of. But, he realized it would be the first time since he'd made his way back to her after Christmas that they didn't spend almost the whole day together. And, while he was excited to get to the shop, he was feeling incredibly anxious at the idea of Hermione off without him or any other witch or wizard in a foreign country. He thought Hermione seemed nervous about the idea too, though they were both putting on a brave face for the other. They'd woken up and headed down to have breakfast together. They were being oddly quiet with each other, and the anxiety was becoming too obvious to ignore.

"I'll be ok, you know," she finally said.

"Of course you will," he said as much for himself as for her benefit. "Not that anything will happen. But, you've handled the worst of the worst, so I know you can handle anything that comes up. No matter what."

"I'm getting my nails done and going shopping in muggle stores. We'll be fine. I'm actually more nervous about all that one on one time with my mum. I just know she's going to ask about things we've more or less skimmed over."

"You don't have to tell her anything you're not ready to talk about or you just don't need to think about yet. Just say it's still too difficult and you promise to talk to her eventually but that you don't want to ruin your special day together by remembering painful things."

She nodded. "That would work. That's a great response – I may say it just like that. But," she said with a smile, "what if she doesn't want to hear about the war but really wants to try to get the dirt on what you and I have been up to."

"She wouldn't, would she?"

"She might." Hermione shrugged. "If my only daughter showed up in a hotel with a boyfriend, I would certainly ask questions. Your parents are different because they spend so much time around us. And, well, apparently everyone had us figured out before we did."

"There is that," he laughed as he ate another piece of bacon. "But do me a favor. If you two talk about something I need to know so I can be appropriately mortified in front of your parents, give me a heads up, alright?"

"Ok. I promise," she laughed. "And what about you? Do you need some more tea so you can stay utterly focused and not get pranked by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?"

"Tweedle who?"

"Nevermind. But, are you up for this? It's been a while since you have been the soul focus of two experienced pranksters."

"Yeah. I know. I'm stuffing myself now because I am certainly not going to eat anything they give me."

"Well, just watch it. But, in the end whatever they do won't be too bad."

"How do you figure?"

"George is scared of me."

Ron laughed and nodded, and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.

They headed back up to the room to brush their teeth and get their things. As they were each about to leave they had a slightly emotional moment saying goodbye.

"This is absurd. I'll see you for dinner," Hermione complained, running her fingers under her eyes to try to keep from crying.

"If you want me to come with you, I will," Ron said earnestly.

"No, we both need to do this. We can't just spend 24 hours a day together forever. It will be good practice for the fall when you're at work and I'm up at school."

"Ok," he nodded, personally unconvinced.

She hugged him and he didn't release her from his arms at the end of them embrace.

"Just promise me you'll have your wand easily accessible and you'll keep your eyes open, yeah?"

"Always," she said. "And the same goes for you, too." Then she sniffed and tried to lighten the moment by adding, "But you need to keep your eyes open for wayward Death Eaters AND pranksters. So you have a much tougher day ahead of you!"

He chuckled, squeezed her tightly again and kissed the top of her head. "Ok, have a great day. I love you, and I can't wait to hear all about your girlie spa day later."

"Yeah, I bet," she scoffed.

"Well, if you tell me all about it when you're naked I could be very interested."

She just laughed at him, shook her head and gave him one last peck on the lips before apperating to her parents' house. Ron watched her go, sent up a brief prayer for her safety and went to find his brother. It felt strange to be apart after being used to having her there for so long. But, Ron knew it was important to get back to living life independent from each other, and this would just be a small step in that direction. While he was a little leery of what sort of hazing George and his elder prankster pal may have in store, he was also looking forward to spending the day in the shop.

He and George arrived just as the shop opened in the morning. It was a weekday, and the children were back in school, so they didn't expect much traffic through the store that morning. But that would allow them to go over a lot of the products without much interruption from customer. Ron had smiled as he watched George enter the store. It seemed to soften his whole spirit or something. You could almost see his shoulders relax and the hop come back to his step as he more or less absorbed the energy of the place. It felt good to see his brother so at ease again, and it was downright uncanny how comfortably he and Rocks interacted.

They decided to start the day off by catching Ron up on some new product ideas the two had been working out, and then they could talk through how to identify suppliers to get the items created. Rocks talked through how he vetted different suppliers and now had it down to five or six trusted vendors he knew would produce the products reliably. He helped the brothers understand how to negotiate prices down, but helped them understand how not to purchase on price alone, as their products would be trash. Then Rocks talked to them about how he set prices for retail, as well as how he would set discounts for employees but also for bulk purchasers or contracts he had.

Ron was intrigued by the contracts concept, and kept asking questions about how Rocks had developed those, and Rocks was more than happy to regale them with tales of what he had done over the years. The conversation then moved on to how Rocks thought about product generation. As he had told George, this was Al's strength, not his, so he'd had to come up with a more formal, strategic way to approach it. He talked about how he started thinking of his customers as different groups of people, and how different groups wanted different things. For example, grandmothers like to buy what the grandchildren wanted, and didn't really care about the consequences because they didn't live with the children. But, parents tended to only buy the products that would wear off in short periods of time as they knew they would be the ones dealing with the child stuck with a blue nose or whatever it was for the duration. Then there were little girls who liked to buy "cute" stuff, while the little boys often were drawn towards the "gross" stuff. And, he had discovered over the years that he wanted to be sure there were always at least a few products for each group in the shop at all times. He also wanted to be sure there were products at different price points. He said he wanted to ensure that the little child who came in with one coin could always find something to buy, and that kid would grow up and become a loyal customer. And, he was also always sure there was something in the shop that was worth a kid saving up for.

Ron was fascinated by the entire conversation. He had never paid such attention in any of his Hogwarts classes, but suddenly found himself scrounging for parchment and jotting down things he wanted to remember as well as notes of things he wanted to follow up on later. He started asking George if he had done these things at his shop, but George said they really hadn't. They had just invented stuff they would have wanted to buy. Ron then asked Rocks a lot of questions about how he managed the building, how often he hired new staff, what he's learned about how to pick the right staff, and how he handled the accounts for the shop at the bank and what advice he had for them. He went back to the question of pricing and picked Rocks' brain for over an hour on how to set prices for various products. George was clearly a little bored with the pricing discussion and had wandered back to the workroom and continued working on some tweaks to a charm they had been developing.

At some point Ron ducked out to grab sandwiches for everyone at lunch, feeling clever that he could seem nice and protect his food from the two jokesters. As he tucked into his sandwich, he was asking Rocks about how he planned seasonal rotation of products. And suddenly he felt an odd sensation in his head, and before he knew it, his face had transformed into a kangaroo head, and the pair of prankster wizards at the table burst into hysterical laughter.

"Bugger," he thought. "I knew something was coming, and I still fell for it. I am out of practice for sure."

Between guffaws and loud shrieks of laughter, Rocks and George explained he'd made the mistake of turning around to unpack the crisps from the bag which gave the two mischief makers just enough time to slip some "Roo Powder" into his sandwich. The trick wore off within half an hour, and Ron quickly jumped back into the discussion of seasonal displays, and Rocks explained with great flare his most successful Halloween display ever. Before he knew it, it was 5 in the afternoon and time to close up the shop. The day had flown by, and Ron was energized about the idea of working with his brother in the weeks ahead. George was going to stay and have dinner with Rocks, but Ron was heading back to have dinner at the Grangers' home that evening. As he left, he smiled as he could hear the pranksters arguing over the best way to sneak puking potions into food. They were definitely a match made in heaven, and he was rather confident Al and Fred done exactly that.

Hermione hadn't been sure how she felt about the idea of spending the day with her mum. She was extremely aware that she was away from Ron for the first time since basically he'd plucked Harry from the frozen lake. But, even more than that, their last two weeks together in Australia had been incredible. She had grown so comfortable with him there that it was an odd sensation to be apart from him. She was also a bit anxious about the day ahead of her. While she was looking forward to seeing her mum, she was not totally sure how much George had told her, and she was also not sure what her mum would ask her about her time on the run – or about Ron. Hermione tried hard to put it out of her mind and focused on enjoying the pampering yet to come.

Her mum had made them appointments for facials, manicures and pedicures at a salon near their home. They started with facials, which was a very relaxing start to the day. Then the salon ladies brought them mimosas to sip on while they had their nails done. They both picked out polish colors and returned to side by side tables to have their manicures first. They were sipping their drinks and chatting about the colors they had chosen as the manicurists worked on their hands. Hermione knew her nails must look terrible between her nutrition issues and her nervous habits, so she didn't think much of it when the manicurist had to really work at her cuticles and nails. And she made up a story about a spill when the woman questioned her ink stained fingers. Finally she was finished with that part and began to massage her hands and wrists, which Hermione had to admit felt great. But then before she could think about it, the lady pushed up Hermione's sleeve to begin massaging her forearm with the lotion and quickly saw the "mudblood" scar.

Even before the manicurist or her mother could say anything, Hermione yelped and shoved her sleeve back down her arm. That might have been ok, but she managed to knock the mimosa over in the process, splattering her mum with the drink, but also sending shards of glass against the skin of her own arm and leg. The rapid succession of these events triggered her, and suddenly she was sobbing hysterically and re-living her prior trauma. The salon ladies quickly jumped up to clean up the mess and bring her some towels, but them hovering over her and trying to mop her up only managed to increase the panic. And, as Hermione's sobs increased, the women eventually backed up a little to give her some privacy.

Hermione felt instantly as if she was in some sort of vortex. She could see her mum, and could hear the salon ladies distantly apologizing for upsetting her, but her sobs were so strong, and this made it difficult for her to breathe. She felt as if she couldn't breathe at all, and as she hyperventilated she could feel that panic overcome her. Suddenly it was as if she was once again pinned to the ground by Greyback as Bellatrix reached for her arm. She heard herself screaming for Ron, and she was listening for his voice pull her out, to rescue her again, but then she realized he wasn't there. The knowledge that he was far away and didn't know she needed him hit her like the chandelier.

As she began to give into the panic, she caught her mum's eyes. Her mum looked so scared but also strong. It was a strange sensation, as she had always been told she had her mum's eyes. She suddenly wondered if she had that same strong yet fragile look as well. And somehow, the distraction of this thought for just a millisecond began to allow her to catch her breath and ground herself back in the present reality. She was able to take a steadying breath, and then a second. Soon she could feel herself settle into a more regular breathing pattern. She wasn't in Malfoy Manor in England; she was in a spa in Sydney. No one was trying to torture her, they were trying to pamper her. Within a few minutes she had calmed to normal breathing, and her mum had sent the salon ladies off to get them some tea.

Her mum was now stroking her hair like she did when she was a little girl. Hermione had forgotten how soothing her mum's touch was. Ron stroked her hair sometimes, and even Mrs. Weasley - but there was no one in the world who could ever replace her mum.

"Hermione, dear," her mother said quietly. "Hermione, are you doing better? Are you able to breath normally again?"

Hermione simply nodded and leaned into her mum's hand as it stroked her hair.

"You're ok, darling. I'm here. You are completely safe, honey. Is there anything I can do to help right now?"

Hermione shook her head.

"George mentioned that sometimes you have struggles, and Ron seems to be the only one who can help. Do we need to go find Ron?"

Hermione thought about this for a moment. As much as she knew she would feel so safe if Ron were to swoop in at that moment and handle everything, she also knew she needed to figure out how to face this on her own. She took a deep breath and then very quietly replied, "No. I will be ok. I just need a few more minutes I think."

Her mum smiled, relieved to hear her voice.

"Ok, darling. I will do whatever you need me to do, ok? Just let me know how I can best help."

Hermione smiled at her mum and nodded. She was trying to stay calm, but she couldn't understand why she had panicked as terribly as she did. Her arm didn't hurt when it was touched, so what caused her to react like that? As she racked her brain, a thought finally came to her that made sense. Here she was in a muggle salon with her mum, enjoying a perfectly safe, muggle outing and somehow Bellatrix had snuck into it. She hadn't ever thought about what to say to a muggle about her arm. And between the woman holding her arm down, the shock of being caught unaware and then the shattering glass, it had all combined to set off the panic attack. It had all caught her off guard. Maybe she should call that squib counselor woman that Healer Helen had recommended. As her thoughts continued down this track, the salon ladies brought back tea.

"Do you think you can drink some tea, dear?" asked her mum.

Hermione nodded. "I am so sorry," she apologized to the salon ladies. They nodded and gave her kind but sad smiles.

"I'm so sorry, Mum. I have ruined our special outing."

"You've done no such thing, darling. Please don't worry about a thing. All I want to do today is spend time with you."

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione smiled. Her mum hugged her and held her tightly for a few minutes as they drank their tea.

"What would you like to do, dear? Do you want to finish our nails here, or would you prefer to skip out and go chat somewhere for a bit? Or do you want me to take you somewhere to rest a while?"

"Well, let's have them do our nails. I – uh – I think I will skip the lotion part," Hermione laughed a bit to herself. "And then maybe we can go get some lunch somewhere and talk a while."

"I think that's a great plan, dear."

Soon Hermione's mum had the salon ladies back at their work, and had clearly let the women know not to mention the earlier incident or rub any lotion on Hermione's arms. An hour later the mother and daughter had lovely nails, and were off to find lunch.

They had found a small café with a private booth for the women to share where Hermione could see the door. Soon they'd ordered their meals, and Hermione could tell her mum was trying very hard to not ask her about what had just happened.

"Mum, we can talk about it."

"Ok, dear. I just – I just don't want to make anything worse. I love you so much and the last thing I want to do is make you hurt more."

"I know, Mum. And I appreciate that. But, I love you too, and I need you to know and understand all of this."

"Alright, Hermione. I am all ears. What do you want me to know?"

"Well, I am guessing you put together that I just had a panic or anxiety attack? Or maybe some kind of trauma flashback. I'm not sure the official name."

"Yes, I put that much together. I am a dentist – I've had more than a few people collapse in that manner in front of me over the years. But, what I don't know is what set it off, and how to help you both handle them, or better yet – avoid them - in the future."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, I am not totally sure I can answer that. Um – let's back up. I gathered that George told you about what happened to me last spring?"

"Well, somewhat. He said he knew you had been captured, and that he thought – well – he thought you had been tortured, but he said he wasn't there and wasn't totally sure about the details. But, he also said Ron rescued you somehow, and then – in a very George Weasley manner – told us not to ask you about it."

Hermione chuckled at that. "Sounds like George."

Her mum agreed. Hermione proceeded to explain in detail what had happened at Malfoy Manor, including how Ron had tried to volunteer to be tortured instead. Both women were crying by the time their food arrived.

"So what set this attack off?"

"Well, after all the magical torture, she carved my arm, mum." And at that, Hermione pulled up her sleeve to show her mother the scar.

"I don't even know what that word means, honey."

Hermione went onto explain the word, as well as how it was done with dark magic, so that it couldn't be easily healed. She told her Mum about what Healer Helen had said with some new ointments that could make it fade and easier to cover with glamor charms. She assured her Mum that it didn't hurt, but she also confessed how much she hated it.

Her Mum was quiet for a few minutes until she finally spoke, "I know I should probably be asking you a million motherly questions about how all this made you feel. But, bear with me - I have a thought. I am still in clinical dentist mode for a moment. I know I don't understand all about magical healing and dark magic, but that scar looks like regular scar tissue to me."

"I think it is. But, the healing they would usually use is somehow blocked by the curse that was used to create it. The ointment eases the scar tissue some I think, but it then leaves a regular scar."

"Well, then – wouldn't it just stick it to that bitch if we treated a 'mudblood' scar in good old fashioned muggle style?" her Mum said with a wicked laugh.

"I don't understand, Mum. What are you talking about?"

"Well, that crazy woman may have used a cursed knife. But, she didn't know your mum is rather good with lasers and scar removal in her dental practice, did she?"

"You think you can remove this with a laser?"

"Well, I am not 100% certain, as I don't understand all the magic part. But, if that were a regular scar – then yes – I am rather certain I could fix it to a faint mark as a worst case."

"You're serious?"

"Yes – I am. I have to warn you, it does hurt though. So, psychologically it could be difficult. But wouldn't it be somehow full of cosmic karma to eliminate the word 'mudblood' from your arm with a muggle tool?"

"I think it would be brilliant!" Hermione beamed. "And, I don't know – I think if I went in knowing it would hurt, then I wouldn't be surprised by it. I think today I reacted because no one besides Ron and his sister in law, Fleur, have really touched my arm at all. They took care of me after it happened, and everyone has just either not known about it or tiptoed around it. Out here no one knows about it, let alone understands the word. But I am ready to not have this reminder with me all of the time."

"OK, I will inquire at work tomorrow about reserving the laser for early next week. I think it will take several hours to do it. Ron could certainly be there to help you through it."

"Thanks Mum. You know – this is the first time I have gotten through a panic attack without him. Actually, I am almost glad it happened, because now I know I can get through it on my own. I was beginning to wonder if I would be able to get along without him by my side all of the time. Sounds so ridiculous doesn't it? Not that it was enjoyable – but it at least gives me the confidence to know I can handle it alone if I have to. That said – I will totally want him there for the laser treatment."

"Darling, I know this year has been awful in ways I can't comprehend, but several things are clear to me. First – you are the same strong, intelligent, amazing young woman you have always been. Suffering from anxiety doesn't make you weaker, if anything it makes you stronger, as it forces you to work through additional obstacles to do what was once simple. Second, you and Ron are so blessed to have each other. You clearly love each other very much, and you take such wonderful care of each other. It eases my heart to know you are so treasured. But it is not easy to love like that. There are costs to loving sacrificially and unconditionally as you two seem to do. The 12 year old idealist Hermione would never have understood that. But, I think that the young woman in front of me does. Am I right?"

Hermione nodded, with tears in her eyes. "I am so lucky to have him, Mum. He has been so incredible to me. But it is rather scary to give your heart so fully to someone. I guess you are never able to be 100% sure you will get it back in one piece."

"Oh, I feel rather certain that at some point you will both break each other's hearts a little – probably unintentionally – and not irreparably – but we are humans. It seems we always are destined to hurt the ones we love the most, no matter how we try to avoid it. But, the good news is that when you heal from those heartaches that you will inflict on each other, your love will be even stronger and deeper than it is now. I may not be a witch, but I can assure you that there is magic in love and forgiveness. It is rather amazing – even us muggles can see that!"

After lunch the pair decided to go shopping. Hermione's mum said she wanted to get a nice outfit, so they were looking through a rack of dresses.

"Are you still a size 4 dear?" her mum asked.

"Well, actually – I am not sure, but probably not," admitted Hermione.

"What does that mean, honey?"

"Well," Hermione sighed as she hung up the dress she had been looking at. "Unfortunately I lost a lot of weight last year, and I have had rather a difficult time gaining it back."

Hermione's Mum looked concerned. "How much did you lose?"

"About 25% of my body weight," Hermione said quietly.

"Hermione! That can really harm your body, darling."

"I know, Mum. I actually saw a healer before we came, and she reinforced that same idea. We didn't have a lot of food when we were on the run, and so we survived on what we could forage, which wasn't much. It seems like my stomach actually shrank during that time, so now it is hard to eat a lot in order to gain the weight back. She said I needed to take it one pound at a time, but to really work at it."

"So have you gained any weight since then?"

"I don't know, actually. I have been too nervous to find out. But, I feel like my appetite is better, and the past week or so I think I have been eating more."

"Well, that is good. Have you tried protein drinks?"

"I don't know what those are."

"Well, when we have dental patients who have oral surgery and they can't eat for a while, we tell them to buy these protein and calorie dense drinks at the shops. All of the markets have them – and they come in different flavors. We'll pick some up on the way home. Maybe you could just add in one or two a day, and it would boost your calories each day by just a bit. They sell them back in England too, though apparently not at magical grocery stores. Some people find them a bit thick in texture, but they aren't bad, especially if it's only for a little while. You can have one mid-morning and one mid-afternoon, and that way it won't take up any stomach space during your regular meals."

"Great idea, Mum."

"Honey, have you stopped menstruating from all of this?"

Hermione teared up at this question, and her Mum immediately came and hugged her.

"I haven't had a period in over a year, Mum," Hermione sniffled. As she regained her composure she continued, "When I saw the Healer I said I assumed it would start back once I gained some more weight, but she said it might not. Apparently the curses I was tortured with can leave something like magical scar tissue that can interfere with everything as well."

"Oh, Hermione," her Mum said as she hugged her again.

"I completely freaked out when she said that. Poor Ron, I made the Healer tell him and his Mum together because I couldn't handle it."

"Oh dear," her Mum laughed. "Ron had to discuss your periods with his mum and a healer? He must love you a lot."

The two ladies were laughing now. "I know – true test of love right?" Hermione chuckled. Her Mum just nodded as she was laughing too hard to respond.

"So, the Healer said my first goal was to regain the weight and see if my periods come back. But, if they don't there are some procedures they can try, but that I am too weak right now to even try them. When I was freaking out the Healer kept reminding me that I am a teenager who doesn't want to have a baby anytime soon anyway, which is of course true. But, it is still rather overwhelming, you know? I mean, I don't know – it just seems like a lot to ask of Ron to take that risk with me. He is from such a big family, and clearly wants kids, and what if I can't give him that?"

"Hermione, honey, if Ron was willing to be tortured by a maniacal witch for you, I think this is a much more manageable problem to overcome."

"That's what he said. He mentioned adoption and things as well as options, but it's hard to think about, you know?"

"Oh, Hermione, that seems to be getting way ahead of things, don't you think? Gaining weight could solve the whole problem. And if it doesn't then there are still other options to try and fix things before you get there. You can't solve problems that aren't here yet. And, you never know. You may be able to get pregnant but choose adoption anyway. Life has a funny way of reminding us our plans are often irrelevant."

"That's true."

"You've been through so much these past months, I think you have enough on your plate right now. Don't borrow tomorrow's troubles yet."

"Ron said that too."

"I am liking him more every minute," her Mum smiled. "OK. Here is what we are going to do. We are going to find you an absolutely smashing sleeveless dress, and I am going to buy you the size that is one size too big for you. And then I am going to buy Ron an incredible outfit as well. And, as soon as you can fit in the dress, you two will go out and celebrate the accomplishment – both gaining the weight and shedding the stigma of that scar, and your father and I will pick up the tab for the whole celebration. How does that sound?"

"That sounds perfect, Mum. Really a wonderful idea."

"I can't get rid of that mad woman who tortured you, but I can help you heal."

"Mum, uh, just so you know – she's dead."

"She is?"

"Yes. Actually, Mrs. Weasley killed her."

"Molly _killed_ her?!"

"Yes. It was the final battle, and Ginny, Luna and I were all fighting her, and Mrs. Weasley swooped in and took over and won. She dropped dead right in front of me when Mrs. Weasley hit her with a killing curse."

"I always knew I liked that woman. You don't get in between a mother and her child, you know. We all just turn into crazy mama bears or something. There is a fierce love there."

"That's what Mrs. Weasley said."

"When talking about the war?"

"No," blushed Hermione. "I was crying one night because I was so scared you would never forgive me and never love me after what I had done. She said that motherhood is magical, even for muggles, and that a mother's love would never be affected even by the memories being erased. She gave me hope we might be ok."

"Oh, Hermione. She's right, you know. My heart kept loving you even if my mind wasn't aware of it. That could never change. You will see someday – I know you will."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Ron awoke to a dark room and the feel of Hermione curled into his chest. He glanced at the clock and saw it was only 4:30 am, but his mind was racing and he knew returning to sleep was unlikely. Today was the day Hermione's mum was going to try to remove Hermione's scar from her arm.

Ron had been thrilled to hear about the possibility of removing Hermione's scar with some muggle thing. He knew he didn't understand it, but he'd grinned at the thought of how brilliant it was to erase that particular word with muggle technology, and he knew his dad would go bonkers hearing about it. He had been concerned to hear that Hermione had a panic attack while he was at the shop, but eventually she had helped him see that it was a good thing she had learned to manage one without him there. While he knew that was true, it didn't actually make him feel any better about not being there to help her. And, he was uncomfortable with himself that while he was thrilled she could handle it on her own, there was a tiny part of him – that sounded, admittedly, much like the locket had – that was worried if she didn't need him that she wouldn't want him. He tried hard to beat those self-doubts back down, and he did. He just never seemed to be able to get rid of them altogether.

It had been an eventful week in Sydney. Hermione had spent a lot of time with her parents and seemed to be closer to her mum than ever before. Hermione was right – just them getting to see her do magic had helped make everything feel more real and somehow normal for them. He and George had both marveled at their reaction to Hermione doing simple spells around the house. They'd both tried to help her parents understand how truly brilliant she was, but they both knew her parents still had no real idea of what an incredibly powerful witch she was.

Ron had spent a lot of time throughout the week with George and Rocks, and was excited to be thinking about ways to grow the shop back in England. He'd even spent time talking with Hermione's dad about his experience managing the dental business and realized that there were a lot of similarities in any small business. Turned out Hermione's mum was more interested in clinical advances and learning about new dental technologies, and that her dad had been more of the business thinker in their working relationship, and he was happy to share the lessons he'd learned over the years as well. He was especially helpful in talking to Ron about keeping books tracking staff expenses, rental costs and contractual income that he knew George would know nothing about. Ron was truly excited about getting back to England and putting some of the concepts he's learned into action.

And, the time for he and Mr. Granger – he still had a hard time calling him Hugh, but he was working on it – the time they spent together talking business was a great way for them to really get to know each other on somewhat neutral ground. It wasn't Hermione. It wasn't magic. It wasn't muggle technology. It was something nice and safe like how to depreciate assets over time. And as boring as it might sound, Ron was really grateful they'd had the opportunity to get to know each other in that type of neutral setting.

But today was going to be hard. He was really concerned about how things would pan out. Usually he was an optimist and simply assumed the best, but today he wasn't sure. First he wasn't totally convinced that this muggle light thingy was going to be able to fix the scarring at all – and there was a piece of him that was worried it would somehow make it worse. He wouldn't put it past Bellatrix to have layered in some delayed curse that reacted to muggle technology or something. But, he tried to remind himself that Bill had checked for lingering problems and found nothing. And as Bill was one of the best curse breakers around, that at least was reassuring. Second, both of her parents had pulled him aside and warned him that the procedure could be extremely painful for Hermione, and he didn't want to see her hurt, but really was more worried about whether it would set her back psychologically when she finally seemed to be doing so well. And finally, he was not sure how well he would handle her screaming and crying out again and if it would give him some sort of flashback as well. Things finally seemed to be going better for both of them, but he was concerned that it was a fragile state, and he wasn't convinced either of them was stable enough to handle a hard jolt.

He looked down at Hermione curled up on his chest asleep and was overwhelmed by the love he felt for her. He knew he would do anything for her, but he worried still he would never be enough and really didn't deserve her. She really was brilliant. Truly and utterly brilliant. He wouldn't be surprised if she ended up as Minister of Magic someday. But for some reason she had chosen him. He was trying to believe that a woman this brilliant wouldn't make a mistake in believing in him, but he still wasn't convinced.

It struck him as he looked at her that it had been several nights since she'd had a nightmare. They had both been sleeping better since their trip to Uluru, and he noticed she was eating better too. Her mum had found these muggle drinks to help her gain weight, and Hermione was drinking at least two a day on top of eating more at each meal. She didn't look any heavier, but Ron was hopeful that she had gained at least a few pounds since they'd arrived in Australia.

It was strange to think of how far they had come in such a short time. Three months ago they were still on the run, just barely through her torture, worried they both wouldn't survive the war and hadn't even shared a first kiss. Now the war was behind them; they had transitioned from friends to lovers; they had helped each other through the trauma and grief; they had buried Fred and found her parents; they had helped George find his footing; and today they would be taking another step in taking Bellatrix's legacy out of their lives. It was a dizzying amount of change in a short period of time. Their unexpected weeks in Australia had turned out to be such a blessing. It had given them time to rest, time to heal and time to learn to be together as a couple. He was quite nervous about how things would be when they went back to England.

Ron felt Hermione start to stir in his arms. He glanced at the clock again and saw it was just past 6. They weren't set to meet her parents until midday, so he had hoped she would sleep a little later. He didn't want her to have time to sit around this morning and get nervous.

"Hmm, you're awake early," she whispered.

"I could say the same. Good morning, love," he said as he kissed her forehead.

She smiled and snuggled into him. "We should both be asleep. We aren't set to meet them for hours, you know."

"I know. But I was never good at doing what I was supposed to do anyway."

She laughed. "I used to be a good rule follower, but then I became an outlaw and robbed a bank, so I guess those rule-following days are behind me, huh?"

"We definitely wouldn't make good prefects anymore," he teased.

"Hmm," she said. "Here we are, two prefects fallen from grace with hours to kill this morning stuck in this great big bed. Whatever shall we do?" she asked seductively as she moved one leg over him.

He smiled and leaned to kiss her. Soon they were entwined in each other's arms. They spent the morning slowly making love as the sun began to creep into their room. They were resting and recovering in each other's arms when the alarm clock finally went off.

Ron laughed. "I never imagined a day when we would need to set an alarm not to wake up but to stop having sex so we could go meet your parents!"

"I guess we finally found something as high on your list as sleep and food," she giggled.

"Oh, trust me Hermione, those are so far behind its not even fair to put them in 2nd or 3rd place."

She kissed him and headed to the shower. He lay back on the bed and watched her go, still grinning like a love-struck fool.

Several hours later they arrived at the dental school where her parents taught. It was after the classes were done for the day, so there weren't any students around. They met her parents at the main entrance, and then they wound their way through a seemingly endless series of hallways to get to the room where the laser treatments were taught.

"OK, dear," said her mum. "This is it. You'll sit here in the treatment chair, and Ron can sit on the other side to hold your other hand if you'd like. We will all need to wear these protective glasses so the lasers don't hurt our eyes."

They all slipped on these ridiculous looking spectacles, and Ron was trying not to laugh at them.

"Do you want some medicine for pain, or do you want to try it out first?"

"Um, I think I want to have you try a small part to make sure it is working and get a sense of how bad the pain is. And then we can go from there."

"OK, Hermione. You are in charge. We'll start with a small bit, and anytime you need me to stop, just say so." Hermione just nodded as her mum went into dentist mode.

Ron still didn't totally understand what all of this had to do with being a tooth healer. Hermione had explained that some muggles go to see a dentist to get their teeth to look whiter or to have them straightened to look better. Those types of dentists who focus on looks sometimes train in scar removal as well so they can have a whole cosmetic side of the business. Ron had nodded as if he understood, but he still couldn't wrap his brain around all of it.

Ron saw Hermione take a deep breath and take his hand. She turned her head into the crook of his neck so she wouldn't see anything. He smiled and pulled something out of her beaded bag with his free hand. He opened it up and started to read to her from _Hogwarts a History_. As he read, he held her hand, and she relaxed into his shoulder, listening to the familiar words. "Perfect," she whispered. "Thank you for thinking of that. Again."

"Of course, love. Now. Where were we? Oh yeah, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Slazaar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw..." While he kept reading he looked over to Mrs. Granger – er, Jean he was supposed to call her – and gave her the go ahead nod. At that, she got to work.

Ron was surprised by how slowly the process went, but he was pleasantly surprised at Hermione's reaction. They had all mentally prepared for this to be extremely painful for her. But, she was barely squeezing his hand, and she hadn't started crying or anything. After a bit her mum turned off the laser machine and sat back.

"Hermione? I did the first letter. Do you want to look at it? It will still be red from the burn of the laser, but I think it is going very well and should be cleared in a few days."

Hermione lifted her head tentatively and looked over to her other arm. The "M" was no longer a raised scar, but was a red burn mark on her forearm.

"Wow, Mum! It's working! That's fantastic!"

"How are you doing with the pain? Do you need some medicine?"

"No. I'm fine. It really doesn't hurt too much. I think watching you do it is worse than just feeling it. Ron's reading is helping a lot. Let's keep going."

Ron saw her parents exchange surprised looks. They had both mentioned to him separately that most people need a special muggle medicine to numb the area of the body that is being treated as it is too painful. And for something as large as her scar, most muggles would either come back over a series of weeks to have it done or they would have to take medicine to put them to sleep with some sort of muggle potion while they did the work. Ron wondered if Hermione was toughing it out, or if she just had developed an incredible pain tolerance over the past year. He was guessing it was a bit of both.

After four of the letters were done, her mum insisted they take a break and give Hermione a chance to have some tea and walk around a bit. The rest of them had some sandwiches, but Hermione was in no mood to eat. Her mum asked about pain medicine again, but Hermione said no. She did, however, let her mum put a cold, damp flannel over the area that had already been treated, which seemed to help soothe the redness.

Several hours and several book chapters later, they were all done with both the arm and the neck scar. Hermione hadn't cried once, and the areas were now covered in a healing ointment and cold cloths. It was evening at this point. Her parents had invited them back to their house, but Hermione said she just wanted to go back to the hotel and go to bed. Her mum made sure Ron new how to put the ointment on her arm and change the cold cloth, and said to call them if there were any problems. They said they would come by the hotel in the morning before work to check on her.

With that, Ron dispparated them back to the room. He puffed up the bed with pillows so her arm and neck would be comfortable with the cloths on them. She crawled into the bed and fell asleep within ten minutes as Ron stroked her hair.

Once she was out, Ron watched her sleep for a while. She really was the bravest women he knew. He cast cooling charms on the cloths covering the scars, kissed her gently and quietly curled up next to her.

They were all exceedingly pleased that the laser treatment had gone so well. After a few days, there were still faint burn marks, but even they were fading. Jean said that if there were any lingering marks when they came home in December she would be able to do a follow up treatment in England to finish it off.

Hermione, Ron and George would be returning to England the following day, and the Grangers were having everyone, including Rocks, to dinner that evening. The past few days had been busy. It felt like George had spent every waking minute with Rocks, and Hermione had spent every minute her parents weren't at work with them. Ron had tried to divide his time between the two, and was beginning to be worried about how Hermione and George would transition back to life at The Burrow after this time away. His strategist brain was already trying to figure out what he could do to help that go as smoothly as possible.

But, for now, he found himself using a muggle contraption known as a vacuum cleaner to suck up dust from the carpet in the Grangers' living room. Ron thought it was rather amusing to be cleaning up the muggle house for George and Rocks, neither of whom would have noticed if there were a pile of rubbish right in the center of the table. But, he was still trying to do anything he could to stay on the good side of Hermione's parents, so vacuuming it was. So, when he couldn't get the muggle contraption to work right he simply used a cleaning charm to do the work and then ran the muggle machine over it several times to make it seem like he'd done it the muggle way.

The intergenerational prankster pair showed up right on time with gifts of Firewhisky and chocolates. Hugh went to taste one of the chocolates, when Ron immediately stopped him.

"Uh, not to be rude Hugh, but from my personal experience I would not recommend eating anything from these two unless you'd seen them eat it first so you can be sure of the result."

"Really?"

"Definitely," Hermione chimed in from the other room. "Alright, out with it you two – what do they do?"

"Well," confessed Rocks, "these are from a line I am working on called Bubbling Bon Bons." With that he popped one into his mouth, and promptly began blowing chocolate looking bubbles into the air.

"Now Ronniekins, we wouldn't turn the Grangers into kangaroos tonight. We saved that for you."

"Really?" gawked Mr. Granger.

"Well, only his head, and only for half an hour or so."

"I really must come see your shop sometime," he laughed. And then he took a chocolate and began blowing chocolate bubbles around the room. Hermione laughed and shook her head at him before returning to the kitchen to help her mum.

Dinner that evening was quite a celebration for the six of them. They had spent much of the evening talking about the brothers' plans for the shop, with Rocks piping in on advice for different aspects of things. Ron and Hermione were clearing dishes to make room for tea and dessert while the others continued arguing about the market potential for animal toys. The Grangers were discussing how obsessed muggles were with their pets, while George and Rocks couldn't quite believe people would spend that much money on toys for animals. But, they did bounce around a few ideas of products that kids could buy which would be fun for pet owners.

Hermione was putting the kettle on when Ron came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Hey," he said, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hey yourself," she smiled. "Dinner seems to be going well, don't you think?"

"Definitely. Everyone seems to be having a wonderful time. I still can't believe this is our last night here though."

"I know. Life in England feels like a lifetime ago, and I feel like we've all changed a lot just in a few short weeks. It will be very strange going back tomorrow."

"I agree. But I am trying hard not to think about it yet. I just want to enjoy dinner here with your parents, as well as watching George and Rocks together, you know?"

"They are quite a pair. We'll have to have Rocks come to England for Christmas."

"That's a brilliant idea, Hermione. We'll have to ask him tonight."

"And you know, what?"

"What?"

"That's not my only brilliant idea about tonight." And with that she gave him a wicked smile and lightly ran her hand over the front of his trousers.

"Hermione! We're in your parents' kitchen!" Ron yelped in a whisper.

She gave him a wicked smile, and then leaned into his ear to whisper, "I know. But, we have one night left in our own hotel room. I am just saying I plan to make the most of it." She lightly sucked on his ear before grabbing the teapot and heading into the dining room leaving Ron trying to gather himself together to make it through the rest of the evening. She would be the death of him. He was sure of it. Once he was convinced his excitement wasn't visible he brought the desserts back into the rest of the group.

They invited Rocks to come for Christmas, which both Rocks and George thought was a brilliant plan. They decided that he'd come on Christmas Eve once the shopping rush was over for both shops, and then stay for the holiday and a few days after. Ron noticed both George and Rocks seemed to be relieved knowing they would see each other again in a few months. They were independent and feisty souls, but they had also found in each other something no one else seemed to understand, and knowing that tomorrow would only be goodbye for a few months at most seemed to put them both at ease.

It was Rocks who brought up the question Ron had been wondering about but hadn't figured out how to bring up yet.

"So George, have you made some decisions here in Australia then?"

"Well, yes. I think I have. Ron and I will open the shop when we get back. I'm sure it will take a while to get it up and running again, but we might be able to have it open for the back to school rush next month. And, well – I've decided I need to move back to the flat as well."

"Really?" asked Hermione.

"Really," said George. "I can't hide out in my childhood bedroom when I get back. It is too easy to slip into bad habits there I think. I need to get back to my life on Diagon Alley and figure out what that looks like now. I'll probably be back at The Burrow for meals almost every day, but it's what I need to do to start living again."

"Brilliant, George. I think that's a fantastic plan," offered Rocks. "You will never regret living your own life. You'll miss him every damn day, but you'll never regret it."

George smiled and nodded with tears in his eyes as Rocks swatted him on the back lovingly.

"That's courage son," said Mr. Granger, and he raised his glass to George. Ron quickly joined in, and soon they were all toasting George's return to life in England.

"What about you two?" asked Hermione's Mum looking at Ron and Hermione.

"Us?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, dear, I know where the rest of us are living for the time being," her mum laughed.

Hermione glanced nervously at Ron who felt his ears turning purple. "Well," she stammered, "we haven't really talked about it I suppose."

Ron was willing the earth to temporarily swallow them whole, but it didn't seem to happen. However once he realized Hermione was waiting for him to say something he racked his brain for an idea.

"Uh, well, I think we both want to see how my mum is doing, as well as Harry and Ginny. But as for once the Hogwarts term starts back up, I think we haven't figured things out that far ahead yet."

Hermione simply nodded and grabbed his hand under the table.

"Well," her mum replied, "I know this whole situation isn't exactly regular, but I hope you both know we are very glad you are together." Her dad simply nodded in agreement.

"You clearly take great care of each other, so I hope you will find a living situation that allows that to continue for the rest of the year. Not what most parents of teenage daughters say, I guess. But, well, especially with us not there to care for Hermione, it helps to know you are taking care of her so well, Ron."

Hermione smiled and squeezed his hand, but didn't say anything. Ron stammered out "Uh yeah, thanks." Ron saw George across the table looking like he was about to bust out laughing.

"I know you have a lot of options, including staying at The Burrow, but our house there is empty, and you can certainly consider that an option for the both of you – and Harry too if he wants."

While George's eyes were bugging out of his head, Rocks was the one to say it first. "Ron, you'd be one daft bloke to turn that down," and then everyone laughed, dissolving the tension.

Once dinner was cleaned up, George took Rocks back to his flat. The Grangers promised to come by the hotel in the morning for breakfast before they all headed to the Ministry to catch the portkey, and Ron and Hermione disapperated back to the hotel.

"I _cannot believe_ your parents offered to let us live together alone in their home!"

"I know. I didn't see that coming either."

"Part of me wants to take it, and part of me thinks my mum would kill us – if Ginny and Harry didn't kill us first."

"Well, I hadn't really even considered it as an option, honestly. But it might be a good one. I guess I need to check that you want to live together this fall, is that what you even want to do?"

"Yes! Merlin, yes, Hermione. I can't imagine not living with you right now. Is that not what you want?"

"Oh, I definitely do! I just am trying not to assume things so I wanted to check."

"OK, good. Well, at least that part's settled."

"What if we go back to The Burrow until Ginny leaves for Hogwarts. Then we can spend some time with your parents as well as Ginny & Harry. We could see about getting my parents' home connected to the floo network. Maybe Harry, you and I can all live at my parents' home for a bit. If Harry comes it might make it easier on your mum. And it would only be a few months anyway – my parents will be back in December. It would give us some time to figure things out. We could promise your mum we'd be by multiple times a week for meals and such. What do you think?"

"I think staying at your parents' home for a while is a good plan. Um – I am rather certain Harry will be gone for training for a while this fall, so he might not be around much at all anyway. But, let's talk with him before we talk to my parents about it. The other possibility is the flat with George. He hasn't offered, but that never stopped me before."

Hermione laughed. "Well, it's an option. But, I am going to have to be studying, you know. Hard to picture studying while rooming with George and living above the shop. And we won't have as much privacy for, well – all of the extra-curricular activities we've enjoyed this summer."

Ron laughed at this. "Extra-curricular activities?"

"Ok. Lame name. But, I do want to be sure we figure out time for just you and I to spend some time alone no matter where we live or who we live with. Even if we stay at The Burrow, maybe we can just pop over to my parents' home sometimes. We'll have to figure out something."

"We will. I promise. We will. I won't let what we've found slip away. Let's not worry about it tonight, ok? We'll go to The Burrow tomorrow, and plan to stay at least until Hogwarts opens, but we may have to escape to your folks' house rather regularly for a while."

"Ok."

At that George came back into the hotel suite. He looked a little red-eyed from saying good bye to Rocks, but he was still upbeat.

"Well, it is my last official night as your chaperone, so I feel it is my duty to remind you both of the importance of silencing charms. Goodnight all!"

Ron threw a couch pillow at him as he ducked into his bedroom. Ron's ears were red, but Hermione simply laughed it off. "Oh, come on. He's right, isn't he?" she said with a wink, and with that she turned back into their room. Ron was quick to follow. He was going to miss Australia.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Returning to England was as strange as Ron had feared. It felt as though he, George and Hermione had spent a year abroad while everything in England had somehow been frozen in time. It was very odd to be back at The Burrow and constantly surrounded by people after the luxury of a posh hotel suite to themselves for almost a month. But, more than the home setting, it was the heavy atmosphere of post-war England and a home still full of grief that was the most challenging. Well, that and the loss of the blessed anonymity they had all enjoyed in Australia.

His mum had not loved the idea of George moving to the flat, but both Ron and Hermione tried to help her see that this was best for him. George promised to come regularly to meals as he couldn't cook at all anyway, and this seemed to appease her at least a little. The first day they returned they had headed clean up the flat, and George moved after just one night at The Burrow. After that they focused on cleaning up and re-setting the shop, which was a much bigger task. But, Molly kept them all fed and fueled, which helped her feel needed again. And, seeing the life and energy return to George's face was as healing to her as anything. Once the basics were set again, Hermione bowed out of shop work and started staying back at The Burrow to begin studying for her NEWTs during the day. Soon George and Ron dove into re-opening plans and product generation so they would have inventory to sell when they opened the doors again.

It was also odd sharing a room with Harry after having had their own room for so long. But, given that it was Harry, it wasn't that weird. They'd all lived together for the past year anyway. Of course, Ron and Hermione weren't lovers at that point either. But, Hermione had pulled Harry aside and checked he was still ok, and he assured her that as long as they didn't get up to anything with him in the room that he was fine, and she quickly assured him that wouldn't be an issue.

While sharing a room was not the long term plan, Ron did approach Harry about the idea of the three of them all moving to the Grangers' for the fall – in two bedrooms. But, as Ron had anticipated, Harry was going to be gone for ten weeks for auror training, so didn't feel like it made a lot of sense to move now. But, he did say that he had been thinking about fixing up Grimauld Place to live in after the holidays, hopefully with Ginny to follow after graduation in the spring. And, Harry invited them to live there after Christmas for free. Ron, being Ron, didn't want to accept anything for free. So, they finally agreed that Ron would help oversee the renovations while Harry was off at training in the fall. With the eventual plan of moving to Grimauld Place after Christmas, Hermione and Ron decided to live at the Grangers' home once school opened back up. It sounded like a great plan for everyone. Well. Everyone except Mrs. Weasley, but they both knew she would come around eventually.

While sorting out and updating the living arrangements caused some ruffled feathers around Mrs. Weasley's kitchen table, Ron was much more concerned about the update Kingsley had shared with them. Ron had hoped that by the time they returned from Australia, the Ministry would have rounded up the last of the Death Eaters - especially Lestrange and Greyback. However, they were still at large, and there had been not one single lead on either. This only heightened Mrs. Weasley's desire to keep all of them at The Burrow until all of the Death Eaters had been caught, but everyone recognized that it was not realistic. With Harry off to auror training in September, and Ginny and Hermione to be at Hogwarts at least most of the time, the biggest area of concern was at WWW. As the auror force was so depleted, they couldn't expect someone to be posted to protect them or the shop all of the time. And, since they couldn't put up protective wards around the building and expect people to still come into the shop, Ron was trying to brainstorm how to keep the shop a safe place for his family as well as the shopping public. He just hadn't figured it out yet. For the time being, they all agreed to maintain "constant vigilance" and to not travel alone outside of The Burrow, The Grangers', WWW, The Ministry or Hogwarts. The Grangers' and The Burrow were heavily protected with wards, and George put them up around his flat as well as around the shop each night after they closed. This let everyone at least sleep easy at night. Well, everyone except Ron, who couldn't shake the anxiety of not being able to protect those he loved. But, by mid-August they had all settled into a steady routine and were finding their way towards a new normal.

The last few weeks had been a blur of activity for Ron. He was at the shop all day every day. With the first weeks focused solely on cleaning, rebuilding and restocking, there hadn't been time for anything else if they hoped to open before the kids did their back to school shopping. At some point during the cleaning, Ron found a large cardboard box in the desk that had been Fred's, and it was labeled "Fred's Important Documents and Other Neat Stuff." Not necessarily the most professional organizational system, but Ron was grateful there was one at all. Naturally, it had been protected by a creative series of jinxes set by his older brother. But, after turning his hands to tennis rackets for a day and suddenly only able to speak normally after belting out, "I TRIED TO ROB THE WEA-SLEYS!" like an opera singer, Hermione cornered George and Bill and "convinced" them to take pity on their baby brother and help him get into the box, which they eventually did.

Reading through the stacks of parchment Fred had squirreled away was tedious, and Ron hadn't been quite sure where to start. But due to the urgent need to get the shop stocked and open, he focused on the suppliers for now and stashed everything else away to review once they had opened and made it through the back to school rush.

But, based on what he had learned in Australia from Rocks and Hermione's dad, Ron had carved out the time to put together a business plan for the next 12 months at WWW. He outlined their business goals, key products they wanted to unveil in time for Christmas, Valentines and summer holidays, as well as key data he wanted to start tracking on the shop about which items sold at which profit margin to which types of people. He was up late most nights working on it, which he was highly amused to discover was a turn on for his witch. While it wasn't exactly the time and place for it, he definitely filed that little nugget of knowledge away for later use. But, overall, he was enjoying his new role in the business. In many ways, he thought, it was a lot like the auror skills he could need one day. He had to spend a hell of a lot of time observing people and their behaviors in order to predict what they would do next and be ready for it.

The shop reopened quietly. They had considered a grand reopening, and decided they didn't want to take the security risk. But they also wanted to do a soft reopening in order to get their bearings again in running everything. While it might not have been the biggest revenue builder, they both agreed it had been the right move. And it didn't take long before word had spread and kids were dragging their parents into the gregarious shop again.

Hermione had gotten busy as well. Despite the fact everyone knew she could pass her NEWTs with all Os at any given minute, she was constantly reading and revising for her upcoming exams. Additionally, Professor McGonagall had taken what Hermione had said about transitioning from muggle life into the wizarding world to heart, and asked her to help with orientation sessions for the new muggle students and their families. It was a lot of work, and she had roped several of their muggle born or muggle-raised friends into helping, including Harry. Harry got a bit of a kick out of being temporarily anonymous with this group of new witches and wizards, so it was a wonderful chance for him to just be himself and enjoy sharing the wonders of the magical world with these kids and families. He especially loved introducing the new students to quidditch, and had brought in several folks to demonstrate the sport. That was a big hit with nearly everyone, including the parents. Hermione had also arranged several days to meet families at Diagon Alley to help students find Mr. Ollivanders' wand shop as well as get their books. Ron sort of thought it was an excuse to hang out at Floursih & Blotts all day, but it made her happy, and it was great for business at WWW, so he wasn't complaining.

It was awful watching Harry and Ginny in the week before school opened, as they were both clearly dreading the thought of being apart. They had grown as close as Ron and Hermione had over the summer, so just thinking about how it would feel to be separated from Hermione for so long made Ron's heart break for Harry – even if the git was with his little sister. So Ron and Hermione tried to keep his parents distracted to give the couple as much alone time together as possible. One of the pleasant surprises had been that Ginny was named both Head Girl and Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Professor McGonagall said that Ginny was a natural choice after the tremendous leadership she had shown the prior year protecting so many students from the Carrows. Ron still didn't know everything that had happened, but Neville had told him enough to make his stomach churn. He was so happy for Ginny that she was being honored so publicly for all she had endured. But he also knew that being Quidditch Captain meant far more to her that being Head Girl. Harry had gotten her new broom to celebrate her positions, and they both hoped it added the needed speed to help her get spotted by some of the professional quidditch scouts that might attend games this year.

Hermione had been slowly moving her and Ron's things over to her parents' home over the past few weeks. She would go there some to read and prepare for her NEWTs while everyone else was working at the shop. So by the time September came along, their moving from The Burrow was a non-event. She had decided to take the Hogwarts Express up to school with everyone, but would floo back after the feast. While she had initially planned to skip it, she had become quite attached to some of the new muggle-born students and she wanted to be there for them and see which houses they were sorted into. She also wanted to be there for Ginny and Luna as they headed back to school as well, especially since the last time Luna tried to take the train to school she'd been abducted and held in a dungeon for months. So, despite the fact that he would see her later in the day, Ron found himself on Platform 9 ¾ seeing both Hermione and Ginny off to school.

"I still can't believe you are Head Girl, Gin!" Ron teased. "You are far too mischievous to be in charge of chasing couples out of classrooms."

"Ah, Ron, you are thinking about it all wrong," laughed Ginny. "Just like being a bank robber will help Harry be a better auror, being a very experienced mischief maker at Hogwarts will make me a better Head Girl. And I also don't care enough about stupid rules to worry about the silly stuff. So while there might be a lot of happy couples out there, I can guarantee you that I will not stand for students making each other feel unsafe. There was enough of that shite last year, and I'll do everything I can to make it right."

"I love you, Ginny. Take care, ok?" Ron said as he hugged his little sister tightly. She nodded and hugged him back.

"Look out for Mum and George, yeah?"

"You know I will."

Harry and Hermione were saying their goodbyes as well since Harry was leaving later that morning for his training.

"You'll keep an eye out for Gin, right?" he said.

"Of course," she said. "You know I will. But you better write her often. Because you and I both know what a worked up Weasley temper looks like."

"Right," Harry said as he rolled his eyes.

"Be safe, Harry," Hermione said as she hugged him tightly. "And don't let people under your skin. Everyone will want to try to beat you. But you know better than anyone why you want to be an auror and the skills you need to learn. Stay focused on that and you'll be fine."

"I will. You be safe too. Listen to Ron when he pesters you to eat. I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Harry."

With that, both sets of siblings hugged one last time and then Ron and Hermione stepped back to let Harry and Ginny say their goodbyes. Harry beamed at her with pride, and then engulfed her in his arms. They were both getting teary eyed, so Hermione and Ron turned away to give them a brief moment of privacy.

"I am so glad I don't have to say goodbye to you like that," Hermione confessed.

"Me too. But, I guess it is for the best since he'll be off at training anyway. Might as well both be away at the same time."

"Even though I am coming back later, I still have butterflies in my stomach. Something about the smell and the sounds of this place just put it all right it into my skin."

"I know. It feels weird to not be going back. I mean – I don't regret it, but there is something about this platform that you never shake I suppose." At that, the train blew its whistle. The girls climbed aboard the train as Ron and Harry watched.

"Feels weird, mate," sighed Ron.

"Well, I think it will be a weird year in a lot of ways. But I am not sorry I'm not going back. In many ways it will always be my first home, but that time is behind me."

"True. And look on the bright side – it's not the first time the girls have set out on that train without us. And this time, we won't end the day in a whomping willow."

Harry chuckled as they both waved at the departing train, "and hopefully our wands will still be in one piece at the end of the day."

Ron smiled, and he knew they were both thinking of Dobby. "How long 'til your portkey for auror training?"

"I've still got about four hours," Harry replied.

"Great. Let's go have lunch. Just thinking about how hard you're going to be working over the next few weeks makes me hungry."

Harry laughed, and the two headed off to feed the hungry red head.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

By early October Ron and Hermione settled into the rhythm of their new lives. And while they had the new routine down pat, neither of them felt rested, assured or really even confident in their roles.

Returning to England, both had noticed an increased frequency in their nightmares. But no matter what battles they'd fought in their sleep, they were up early each morning and had breakfast together before Hermione set off for Hogwarts and Ron headed to the shop. They each had a full day of studying or working, and then they would meet home in the evening, have a quick bite to eat and then settle in for more work. Hermione was up late each night revising for her NEWTS and Ron used his evenings to do long term planning work from the shop that he could never focus on when customers were needing help.

Now that they had made it through the re-opening and he'd had two months to settle into the shop he finally had time to go back and dig through the reams of documents from Fred's box of "important stuff." So far Ron had come across the deed to the building that contained the shop and flat upstairs as well as papers listing the different vaults at Gringotts. He'd also found contracts with vendors who had produced various products as well as names of individuals in the customs offices Ron suspected may have been encouraged to let some things slide over the years.

After a quick dinner of Chinese take away that evening, Ron and Hermione retired to the living room where they were curled up on opposite ends of the sofa. Hermione was reviewing notes for her NEWTs, and Ron had a pile of WWW legal documents he was trying to decipher. The first seemed to be the legal structure of the company. Not surprisingly, it was set up so that if either twin died, the surviving twin automatically retained all of the other's share. But, what was driving Ron slightly batty was a strange document from the early days of the business that he couldn't quite figure it out. He had read and re-read the same parchment at least ten times, and was in the middle of trying to read it yet again when suddenly his head snapped up as he felt Hermione's lips on his ear.

"I knew that would work," she laughed.

"Huh?"

"I've been asking you a question for 10 minutes, but I couldn't compete with that seemingly very interesting old parchment for your attention."

"Well, I think you discovered a very reliable way to always get my attention."

"Knut for your thoughts?" she asked.

"Hmm. Not sure they're worth that much at the moment. I'm trying to make sense of this old parchment of Fred's. Naturally it was set up for George to get Fred's share when he died, and I saw several different documents allude to that. But unlike the others I've read, this parchment makes it seem that the twins only owned 80% of WWW and that they have Harry as owning 20% of the business."

"WHAT?"

"That's the thing. I can't figure it out. And honestly I am only assuming it is Harry as I know he gave them a bunch of start-up money. But, the document never mentions his name, only calls him 'the honorable philanthropist.' I can't even tell if Harry, assuming it is actually him, knows he owns 20%. He has certainly never acted like it. And it's not like the twins ever consulted him on anything."

"Maybe it isn't Harry. They were awfully mysterious about things back then. Remember they were always sneaking off to the owlery?"

"Sure I do. But, now that I understand how they worked together, I wonder if George even knows for sure who this person is. He really didn't bother with the business side of things – usually only focused on the creative side."

"Huh. You don't really think he might not know someone else owns a fifth of his business?"

"Maybe. I am not sure. Every time I have asked him about something in these documents he just gets this absent look on his face and his eyes look pained. Like I am rubbing it in that Fred's gone or something, so I have basically stopped asking. Here – you are the most brilliant person I know. You read it and let me know if you can make something of it."

Hermione curled up in his arms on the sofa and began to read through the document. Ron leaned his head on her chin to read over her shoulder, but ended up just nuzzling against her ear and hair as she read through it.

"Hmm," she muttered before she read it a third time before finally declaring "that is the strangest thing I've ever read."

"Well – it's Fred's messy handwriting for sure. And, it was clearly written by Fred and not by a genius legal mind."

"True. But I am not sure it is actually a legal document. It's not an actual contract, and there no signatures from Fred, George or the maybe-Harry-maybe-not person. So, while it is structured to look like a contract, I wonder if it is really just Fred's notes on how he thought everything should be structured."

"Huh. That is very possible."

"I know George doesn't want to talk about this kind of thing, but within the next few months you should try to get the bottom of this with him. If there is a legal structure like this, he should know about it. And, if there isn't one – you should probably help him establish it – with or without the other owner."

"Sounds like a good plan. So – what was your question when I was so absorbed in Fred's legal prowess?"

"What? Oh, nothing really. I was just curious what had you so focused. It just felt weird since I am the distracted one not wanting to do my work and you are engrossed in your work."

"It is a bit of an alternate universe we seem to be in, don't you think?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"So, which NEWT are you currently avoiding thinking about. I am a qualified expert in putting off what needs to be done, so I could prove an excellent resource for you."

She laughed and rolled into his arms a bit more to lean her cheek against his navy jumper before admitting, "Defense."

"Seriously, Hermione?" he guffawed. "You know more than the professors on that one. It's not like most of them know what a bloody horcrux is, let alone how to defeat one, let alone have actual experience doing exactly that."

"I know. It's stupid to worry about it. I guess I was just thinking back to when Umbridge was there and she was teaching what we needed to know on the test and not for the real world."

"Right – which drove you batty so you somehow convinced Harry to start the DA"

"Well, yes," she admitted.

"And you do rather excel at this in the real world."

"Ok. Also a yes. But the silly thing is now I am worried I am full of practical knowledge but won't know what I actually need to know for the test."

"Sorry, love. That is one of the barmiest things I have heard in ages. And I work for George."

"No sympathy?" she pouted.

"Not on this one. If you were stressed about potions or runes or herbology or some other subject I know nothing about, I could feel all the pity in the world for you. But this – this is pitiful. And I plan to do something about it."

"Oh, really? What?"

"This," he exclaimed as he quickly started tickling her. She yelped from his attack, unable to stifle her giggles. He knew all of her most vulnerable spots, and enjoyed exploiting them. Hermione was flushed and gasping for air as she laughed and shrieked. Ron was pinning her down with one arm while tickling the spot right behind her knee that he knew drove her mad.

"OK! OK! I give up!" she shrieked.

"So you'll stop wasting time worrying about the Defense NEWT?" he demanded while pinning her down and holding his right hand dangerously close to the back of her knee.

"Well, I…" she started to protest. He immediately started back to tickle her when she cut in again. "OK. Yes. I won't worry about it. I can't promise not to study for it, but I won't worry about it. I promise."

"Well alright then," he smiled still not releasing her from his hold. "That's much better."

"Are you going to let me up?"

"Not sure. I haven't decided on that one."

"What?"

"Well, there are certain advantages to not having this conversation in the Gryffindor Common Room, you know?" he said, his voice still teasing but getting huskier.

"Really, Ron? It's hardly a sexy moment with me still in my Hogwarts uniform from classes today."

He stared at her for a moment, shook his head and said, "Hermione, by the way you said that, it is blindingly clear to me that you have severely underestimated the many fantasies my randy imagination has come up with over the years that involve me removing you from that exact uniform."

"Seriously?" she asked earnestly, clearly surprised.

Ron gave a grimacing laugh. "Oh yeah."

Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment, and Ron was worried she may think he was strange for fantasizing about her in her uniform, but then she looked right into his eyes, and he could see the desire swirling in the chocolate orbs behind her dilated pupils. She gave him a coy smile and pulled her jumper up over her head, and threw it to the floor. She slowly loosened her Gryffindor tie as she stared at him while licking her lips. Ron felt a jolt to his core.

"Go, Go Gryffindor," he quipped as he leaned to kiss her with a smile. How did he get so lucky, he wondered?

A few days later Ron found himself running a little late on his way into WWW in the morning. As he rushed into the store, he found George already milling about the shop.

"Was wondering if you were coming in today."

"Had to go by Grimmauld Place this morning to meet with the plumbing contractor. It was more like refereeing a match between the plumber and Kreacher actually. The little guy is a lot better than he used to be, but I finally had to get the plumber to agree to pile up any old pipes in one of the spare rooms so Kreacher could decide if he wanted them before they get thrown out."

"I'd forgotten you were handling that for Harry while he's gone."

"Well, it's not too bad. And once the Grangers are back from Australia, I'll be grateful for a fixed up Grimmauld Place."

"Still can't believe they invited you two to shack up there while they are gone. Are all muggles that relaxed?"

"I don't know. But I am trying not to question a good thing."

"Right. Enough about you – I need your help on a product I'm working on."

"You sure? You know that's not my strong point, right?"

"Actually – I think you can help on this one. Or at least on the brainstorming part." George proceeded to tell him how he wanted to create a type of tracking charm to put on jewelry. When he was in Australia, he had read about some muggle phones that let parents track the position of the phone. It lets the parents know where they are and gives the kids the freedom to wander around without their parents. He wanted to figure out how to create a similar charm to put on a necklace or bracelet and have some sort of corresponding parchment that would indicate the locations.

The two worked through several versions of some charms, but hadn't gotten far. After several hours, Ron was getting frustrated. He was still trying to be extremely patient with George, but today his nerves were running thin. Ron realized he was not helping much, and seemed to be serving more as a note taker to keep track of what was working and what wasn't. George seemed to be getting frustrated with their lack of progress as well, and unfortunately was venting his annoyance on Ron.

"We're not getting anywhere, George," noted Ron.

"Thanks for that, you idiot. I hadn't noticed."

"I can help you with a lot of things, but complicated charm development is probably not one of them. You should talk to Hermione. She's the one who can come up with this nonsense."

"Isn't she spending every free minute preparing for her NEWTs?"

"Well, yes. Though I think I've finally managed to convince her she didn't need to bother studying for her Defense exam."

George chuckled at that. "Tough argument, huh? If spending a year figuring out how to kill the darkest wizard of all time piece by bloody piece didn't prepare her, I don't think a few weeks of revising will help out much."

"You'd be surprised at how she really didn't see it that way, mate."

"No. I wouldn't. It's Hermione."

"Well, anyway, what if you come for dinner one night? If you come on the weekend she'll have more time to spend on it. I promise I'll still be note taker if you want me to be. But she's the one who can help you with the charm. I'm the one who can sell it once you make it."

"Right you are, and I am grateful for that. Dinner sounds great – but you should talk to Hermione first. If she's willing, then I'm there."

Hermione had thought it was an interesting enough problem that she agreed to spend a few hours discussing it over dinner.

"If we still can't crack it, then I promise I will help more AFTER the NEWTs in November," she'd said.

So, George had floo'd over, and they had pizza delivered. Over pizza and butterbeers, George and Hermione were debating the arithmancy principles they thought had gone into the Marauder's Map. Ron knew he had no idea what they were talking about, so he started to clean up the empty pizza boxes. He sat there for a while listening to the two debate these complicated theories. And, while what they were saying could very well be true, it seemed that it was far too complicated and far too advanced to be something that James, Sirius, Remus and the damn rat could have come up with on their own that early on in their education. Ron felt that whatever had driven the map had to be far simpler. But, who was he to point that out? Hermione and George understood so much more. He thought it was best to just listen and let them figure it out. He'd be better at helping it get sold once it was created.

George soon walked into the kitchen. "She is one brilliant witch."

"Solve it then?" Ron asked.

"Not yet. But she caught a couple of key problems with how I had been approaching it. At least I know what I need to work on. Of course – she just informed me my time was up because she had to get back to NEWT preparation. But, I bet I can get her to help me again after I work on this part for a bit."

A few weeks later found them at the shop while the cold rain fell steadily down outside. Wednesday afternoons during the school year were never a busy time, but the weather seemed to be keeping everyone indoors, and they hadn't had a single customer all day. George had been making the most of it by working on product creation all day. Ron had used the day to update their books. They'd only been re-opened for a little more than two months, but they were already close to breaking even again. If the Christmas season went well, WWW would be back to being a profitable venture. "In the black," Hermione's dad had called it, when the books go from owing money in red, to making money which was written in black ink.

Ron had taken advantage of the slow day to also get some things accomplished on the Grimmauld Place renovation. Harry had asked him to just pick colors or finishes so that it could get done before he would return from training. Needless to say, Ron knew that was not a good plan at all. So, he had started to pick up different samples and then took them home to Hermione, who would take the two or three that she liked the most to Hogwarts and let Ginny make the final choice. This way Ginny picked what she wanted and Harry was none the wiser. They all figured it would be her house eventually anyway.

Today Ron was bringing home some different samples of counters for the kitchen. He'd taken a long lunch to fetch the small squares showing different choices. If he could get Hermione to take them to Ginny tomorrow then he could have a final selection to the builders by Friday. When they had started this project it felt like they had all the time in the world, but it was just over two months until Christmas. Ron's goal was to have most of the first two floors ready before they moved in. That would include the kitchen, a few bedrooms and two bathrooms as well as the main living room and dining room. There were so many extra bedrooms on the upper floors, as well as sitting rooms and studies that would take years to get to. But, if they could turn at least part of the creepy mansion into something that resembled a nice flat that could hold the two couples once spring came, he would be pleased.

George's face popped into his office doorway.

"I've had a break through, Ronniekins!"

"I'll alert Rita Skeeter."

"Nah. That would just piss off Hermione, and I still need her help. Take a look!" With great flare, he produced a hair clip."

"Its lovely mate, but I never really pictured you as a hair-clip kind of bloke."

"It's not for me you buggering idiot. The clip isn't the amazing thing. It is the magic attached to it that is fantastic." At that he whipped out a parchment and tapped it with his wand. The blank parchment then revealed the word "London."

Ron simply gave George a blank stare.

"It's the location charm, Ronniekins! It still needs work, as eventually I want it to give a more specific location. But – at least it is finally showing the right general area."

"Oh! Excellent. Well done!"

"Once we refine it a bit we could charm hair bobs, pins, watches or whatever we want. Do you think you could take this home and see if Hermione would wear it for a few days? We could see her location change on this parchment. I want to work on the charms attached to the parchment a bit. If she wears it to school then I can work on seeing if I can get it to go from "Scotland" to a more specific location of "Hogwarts."

"Sure – I can ask. Although with her NEWTs just two weeks away, she is rather on the unpredictable side right now."

"Appreciate it. Promise her there is nothing else on it. All she has to do is wear it. Or even just shove it in her bag."

"I'll do my best," Ron assured as he took the clip from George.

He left the shop not too much later. He wanted to swing by the market and pick up some things for dinner. He knew Hermione had been working herself to the bone, and he wanted to make sure that she was eating well so she at the very least wouldn't lose any weight, and hopefully still be able to gain some.

By the time Hermione came through the floo that evening, he'd pulled together some baked chicken with some vegetables and warm bread. It didn't smell as good as The Burrow when his mum cooked, but he was pleased with the results. Hermione hardly looked up from her book as she came out of the fireplace.

"Hi love, how was your day?" he asked.

"Hmm," she mumbled as she continued to read.

"Hermione," he said. No response. "Hermione!" Again no response. So, Ron tried a more direct approach, walking up behind her and simultaneously reached around for her book while he kissed the pulse point beneath he left ear.

"Wha – aaahh," she said as her knees buckled and she gave into the moment.

"Now I have your attention," he grinned.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I have a bit of a one-track mind these days."

"You do realize that phrase usually refers to something else, right?" he teased.

"I know, I know," she said. "But it's only a few more weeks, assuming I do alright anyway."

"Hermione, if you don't do alright then no one will. But, I know that doesn't help relieve any stress. Will you come eat a bit before disappearing to study more? I made dinner."

"Oh, um, I'm not really that hungry," she protested. "And I need to get through this whole section of potions for a session tomorrow."

"Hermione," he said firmly. "You need to eat something. It doesn't need to be the whole supper, but you have to keep eating."

"I know, but Ron..."

"No way, Hermione. You promised you would focus on at least maintaining your weight through the NEWTS. And I know you skipped dinner twice this week already. And can you honestly tell me you ate a decent lunch today?"

"No," she said quietly. "I may have forgotten to go."

Ron sighed, trying hard to keep his frustration in check. Running his fingers through his hair he tried to think of the right thing to say – or at minimum the least bad thing. But, Hermione spoke first.

"I'm trying, ok? I really am. But the pressure is getting to me. And I know I haven't been eating right. But it's only a few more weeks, I promise."

"Hermione, are you honestly asking me to just turn a blind eye to you skipping multiple meals a day for the next few weeks? I mean, I know it's your body, and in the end it's your call. But, I really don't think you want to undo all the work you have put in on getting healthier. You've worked so hard!"

Hermione burst into tears on the spot, immediately reducing Ron to a bumbling mess. He quickly wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't mean to make it worse."

"You didn't," she sniffed as she cried against his chest. "I'm just so close to cracking. If you weren't here I would have cracked weeks ago."

Ron just shook his head and slowly led her to the kitchen table. "Hermione, just sit for fifteen minutes. I'm going to make you tea, and you can eat the rolls. You don't have to eat the chicken if you don't want. Just a little something, ok?"

She nodded meekly, and he hurried into the kitchen to make her some tea. Within a few minutes he had the table set with dinner and she was sipping tea and nibbling on some bread and butter.

"You know, I have a theory," he offered. "I think you are more stressed out for these exams not because of the pressure of NEWTS but because for all other big exams you had the distraction of trying to keep Harry and me on track as well as doing your own work. With all this time on your hands, I think your brain has used the extra time and brain capacity to worry more."

She chuckled despite herself at this, and couldn't really disagree.

"Maybe you're right," she laughed. "Thank heaven you're here to feed me and make sure I sleep and bathe. Otherwise I would be in even worse shape."

"Oh yes – I am willing to personally supervise the bathing, so I am happy to step in and help if need be. You know – take one for the team and all that."

"Right. Glad you can be so self-sacrificing."

"Here to serve, m'lady," he teased.

"But it's only a bit more. And the first exam is late next week, and at least after each one the work load decreases. But if you can just keep me sane for a bit more, I would really appreciate it."

He smiled. "Of course."

"Thanks. I'm going to go up and take a shower now and find some comfy jammies and then would you stay up a bit with me while I study?"

"Absolutely," he grinned. "See you in a bit."

It had been a crazy few weeks, but Ron was thrilled the day was finally here. Hermione's last NEWT exam had been that afternoon, and he expected her home any minute. Ron had known her NEWT exams would go well, but he knew that she would be physically and emotionally drained. He'd gotten off work a bit early so he could pick up dinner from their favorite restaurant which he had in the kitchen under a warming spell. He'd thought about taking her out to dinner, but he was pretty sure she would want to simply curl up on the sofa and fall asleep early after such a grueling day. As soon as she came through the green flames, he knew he'd been right. She practically fell into his arms on the sofa and curled up into his chest.

"They are all done!" she exclaimed. "I am so tired and worn out right now I don't know that I could even accio a blanket."

"Well," he laughed, "I guess it's a good thing I am here to see to your every need then. Should I start with a blanket?"

"No…just let me stay right here in your arms for a bit. I think that's all I need. Maybe all I'll ever need."

"Mmm. As lovely as that sounds, I should let you know that I picked up that vegetarian linguine dish that you love from Marbella's for dinner, so maybe at some point I can bring you that and a blanket."

"That was a brilliant plan, Ron. I hope you got something for yourself that you like better than a vegetarian dish."

"Oh no worries there, my dear. There is a meat lovers' lasagna waiting for me alongside your healthy vegetable dish."

She just smiled at him and burrowed into his arms a little more sighing.

The two stayed there snuggled on the couch for some time. He was lazily drawing circles on her back and stroking her hair as she listened to his heartbeat. But when she finally heard his stomach start to growl, she laughed and said, "I guess it's time for dinner."

"Here," Ron said rolling her gently from his arms, "you stay here, and I'll go fetch it. We'll have a little picnic in front of the fireplace, alright?"

She smiled as he left to gather everything. Soon, they were eating by the firelight.

"Hard to believe that I have actually got the NEWTs behind me," she yawned as she stretched out on the floor.

"Are you excited about the next part where you'll be doing the special studies Professor McGonagall mentioned?"

"Yes, actually," she replied. "It seems I finally get to learn for the sake of learning, which sounds really lovely to me. I don't have to worry about a test or proving to a professor what I know – I just get to spend time reading and researching subjects I am passionate about. Sounds almost too good to be true, you know?"

"I guess I hadn't thought about it like that. Tests do rather suck the enjoyment out of learning, or at least they did for me. Now that I am learning about business strategy, I really do enjoy it. I find myself reading about it just to learn what I actually want to figure out, not to bother with some test."

"Exactly!"

"Wonder why they make us take all those bloody tests to begin with if it simply squashes our motivation, then,"

"Would you have studied nearly as much in school if you weren't preparing for exams?"

"Well I had you, you know, so I would think I probably wouldn't have had a lot of choice."

She smacked his arm playfully. "You make me sound horrid!"

"No, not horrid. Perfect. Maybe more perfect than a fourteen year old boy had the capacity to realize at the time. But I certainly appreciate every bit of it now," he smiled leaning in to kiss her.

She kissed him back lazily.

"You should get some sleep. You haven't slept 8 hours straight in – well – too long. Come on, love, let me help you up to bed."

"Well. I'll let you help me up to bed, Ron. But I have no intention of going to sleep quite yet."

He gave her a hopeful yet mischievous grin return, "Is that so?"

"Oh, most definitely. You have been amazing these past few weeks when I have done nothing but snip and be cranky as I got ready for these exams. And I think you deserve a proper thank you."

"As – well – fucking brilliant as that sounds, you know you don't owe me anything, right? I did all of that because I love you. Not to mention that you deserve it and that I have years to go before I am even close to doing as much for you as you have done for me."

"I love you too. And I am not going to sit here and argue about who does or does not deserve anything. Come on, our bed will be much more comfortable than the floor, don't you think?"

Ron laughed. "You still don't get it do, you? Anywhere, anytime, love. The floor. The bed. The kitchen table. I am always game."

She laughed and led him by the arm upstairs. Hermione was tired, but it clearly hadn't impacted her passion for Ron. They made love slowly and tenderly, taking their time with each other. There was no rush. Nothing else either should be doing. The peace of contentment washed over him like a wave. Hermione was asleep in his arms, her hair sprawled across his chest and her leg entwined around his. He felt as if they had finally stopped chasing one goal after the next. The shop was doing well. George was ever so much better. They had both survived Hermione's NEWTs. Forward from here they would be ok. All they had to do was stay together and they would be ok.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

She smiled as she felt his warm breath tickling the back of her neck in perfect rhythm with his soft snores. Hermione had slept more soundly than she had in months – possibly years. But waking in the safety of Ron's arms, cocooned in the warmth of their bed, the weight of NEWTS no longer on her shoulders, she felt as light and carefree as she could ever remember.

She grinned as she lightly stroked his large, freckled hand that was clasped around her waist as his body was spooned up behind her. He had been so sweet the night before. It wasn't one of their more adventurous nights together, but while it hadn't been outrageously passionate – or as loud – as some of their escapades had been, she had never felt more treasured or protected than she had the previous evening. Turning her head slightly so she could see his face, she was struck with a wave of affection for this man who was her partner in every sense. His ginger fringe was disheveled across his face, and for the first time in a long while, his eyes weren't creased in worry but were resting contentedly.

It was hard to believe Ron was the same person from their childhood who was forever moaning about chores or homework. The man she saw now was more mature than she could have ever imagined him to be. He was always trying to think ahead to help out the ones he loved, and she was so grateful she was one of those people. She wanted to do something nice for him to thank him, and when her idea hit her, she quietly extricated herself from his embrace and snuck out of bed. She grabbed his wand and made sure to cancel the charm that would wake him to go to work. Then she quietly threw on her jeans, an old t shirt and one of Ron's outgrown Christmas jumpers, pulled her hair back in a clip Ron had given her and headed down to the kitchen.

There she whipped up his favorite waffles and sausage and covered it in a warming charm. Then she left a note saying she was going to pop over to WWW to help George do the stocking this morning for Ron so that they could have the rest of the day together. She warned him not to come until after he ate his breakfast, as she fully planned to wear him out later in the day.

She apperated to Diagon Alley and walked through the front door at WWW, calling out as she entered, "Morning, George."

"Well, good morning! To what do I owe this unexpected visit? Didn't you finish your NEWTs just yesterday?"

"Yes I did. I thought I would help do the stocking this morning."

"Well, if you think you did that poorly Hermione, you can absolutely work as my stocking clerk anytime," he replied with a wink.

"While I appreciate the offer and the overwhelming confidence it implies, I am actually here with an ulterior motive. "

"Hmm. Now scheming is much more up my alley than NEWTs. What did you have in mind?"

"Ron's been amazing these past few weeks – months, really. I turned off his waking alarm and snuck out this morning so he could get the sleep he deserves, and I thought I would try to get some of his work done today so he and I could have the afternoon together."

"I am not quite sure what you see in my brother, but he is one lucky bloke, you know?"

"Oh please, George. He's carried both of our arses for almost six months now. And with my nightmares he probably hasn't had eight hours of uninterrupted sleep in longer than that. The least I can do is let him have a lie in once in a while."

"Oh bollocks, Hermione. You and I both know he isn't sticking with you for the sleep. It's the other activities that I am assuming he finds far more alluring," he added cheekily, wagging his eyebrows at her.

With that Hermione smacked the back of George's head and headed back to the stock room. As she stalked off she retorted, "Come on George. Show me what I need to do this morning so I can get back to those alluring activities with your little brother."

Grinning and shaking his head, George replied, "Alright, alright. I need to switch out this display of the after-Halloween sale and set up the Christmas merchandise. If we work together we can have it done by lunch, and then you and ickleronniekins can get up to all the randy activities you want as long as I don't have to hear about them."

"Deal," she replied.

The two of them set to work boxing up the outdated inventory and bringing out the new Christmas items. Customers coming in throughout the morning slowed them down some, and it was tedious work. But within three hours they had almost everything completed. Once they finished with the pricing and the signs around the display, they stepped back to admire their work.

"Looks good, don't you think?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely smashing. It is festive yet mischievous all at once. Maybe I should have you help with more of our displays."

"Ok, George. As it's almost lunchtime and we haven't heard a peep out of Ron yet, I will pop over to the Leaky and pick up sandwiches for all of us alright? Then you can have yours here and I'll take the others back home. Sound ok? Anything else you need while I am out?"

As she asked this a family walked in and the mother was asking George questions about how long different side effects of some of the products lasted. George smiled at Hermione and gave her a thumbs up, at which she headed out the door to grab lunch.

About 30 minutes later, George heard the front door open. He was back behind the counter and called out, "Hermione? I was wondering why it was taking so long. Was the Leaky packed today?"

"Nah, it's me, George," he heard Ron reply.

"Oh, the lucky lover boy awakes," George teased as Ron's ears turned red. Even now that he and Hermione had been together for months and had even been living together in her parents' home since September, his ears still jolted a deep magenta whenever anyone made comments like that about he and Hermione. Knowing this, his family, and especially George, loved to tease him mercilessly.

"She popped out to get lunch, huh?"

"Yeah. I expect her back any minute. I don't get it, Ron. She finishes her NEWTs yesterday, and then she lets you sleep in and she comes in and does your bloody job for you? Maybe you need to write an updated edition of that book about charming witches!"

"Ahh, piss off George. She's just being nice. She's had her knickers in a twist for months – really years – over these NEWTs. She is just glad to have them done and didn't want her boyfriend stuck working today I suppose. "

George just looked at him. "Hmm. Maybe what she says about your selling yourself short is right. As it is clear as day she is crazy for you. Absolutely barmy."

At that the front door rang again, and the brothers both looked up expecting to see Hermione. Instead they saw a very pale little boy come into the store. He was about 8 years old and was bundled up in a wool jacket and cap, clasping a piece of parchment in his hand and glancing nervously between Ron and George.

"Good day, mate," offered George, bending to the boy's eye level. "Can I help you find something? Did your family send you in to find something you have written on the parchment?"

The little boy shook his head and looked very nervous.

"No, sir," he replied. "A man down the street said I had to come in and give this to the ginger man at this shop. But there are two of you, so I don't know who to give it to."

The brothers looked at each other quizzically as George stepped up to the little boy.

"I'm sure it's me as it is my shop. That's just my little brother."

The boy nodded anxiously as he handed over the folded parchment.

George glanced at the parchment and quickly blanched, crying "Fuck!" He quickly shoved the parchment at Ron and bent down to the little boy, grasping his shoulders. "Who gave you that?" George yelped at the little boy as Ron scanned the page.

"HOLY FUCK! HERMIONE?!" screamed Ron as he dropped the parchment and barreled out the door.

The little boy stuttered in shock, trying to hold back tears glancing between George and the door the angry Ron had just stormed out of.

"I..I..I don't know. I was walking towards Honeydukes to spend my pocket money, and this stranger came up and pinched my neck really hard. He gave me the parchment and told me to come give it to you. I – I don't – I have never seen him before." Then his tears broke through as he sobbed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad. I didn't know what to do."

"No, it's ok," replied George as he tried to pat the boy's shoulders. "Can you wait here a moment while I call the aurors? Something has happened to our friend and this parchment is about that."

The boy nodded as tears came out of his eyes. George floo-called the aurors, as he still couldn't conjur a patronus, and then he returned his attention to the little boy.

"Can you tell me what the man looked like?"

"Um, tall. And scary. He had a beard, and dark robes. He smelled like he hadn't taken a bath in a long, long time."

"OK. Um – anything else? Where were you coming from as you walked to Honeydukes?"

"I was coming out of the Leaky Cauldron. My mum and Auntie Jane were having lunch there, and they said I could go to Honeydukes while they talked about boring grown up lady things."

"Nice mum. While you were at the Leaky did you see a young lady about my age, bushy brown hair?"

"Uh, I don't know. I was just focused on getting to Honeydukes."

"Right – ok. Well, we'll wait for the aurors to get here and my brother to get back. They might have more questions."

"Am I in trouble? I've never had to talk to an auror before. Mum is gonna kill me."

"No, I'll make sure she doesn't. You did exactly the right thing. Why don't you play with the pygmy puffs while we wait, and then you can have one if your mum says it's ok. Alright?"

The little boy nodded.

George looked back at the parchment and his heart sunk as he re-read the words. " _So good to see the mudblood again. I didn't get nearly enough time with her at Malfoy Manor. I have her now. But who I really want is Harry Potter. I will give you back the mudblood in exchange for the murderer of the Dark Lord. I will contact you tomorrow and let you know the time and place where we expect to see Harry Potter. Do not try to find us. And believe me, I will make the most of my time with little miss mudblood_."

Soon the aurors arrived and had interviewed the boy before reuniting him - and his new pygmy puff - with his mum. Ron had torn up and down Diagon Alley looking for any sign of Hermione, but it was of no use. Soon the aurors had interviewed the folks at the Leaky and discovered that Hermione had never made it in to pick up the sandwiches at all. George's heart was breaking as he watched Ron vacillate between rage and anguish as he paced the store and pulled at his hair as he would periodically crumple over in despair.

Eventually Kingsley came. George asked where Harry was, and Kingsley confessed he had not notified him yet. They all knew Harry would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for Hermione, so Kingsley wanted to develop a solid plan before they pulled Harry out of auror training.

Ron tried to remain patient as the aurors interviewed the little boy and other people who had been on the street when it happened, though no one else saw anything. While they worked, he continuously opened and shut the deluminator. If she could just call his name, he knew he would go right to her. But there was nothing. It had been three hours and still all they knew was that Hermione was gone. She had been taken somewhere between the shop and the Leakey, and odds were she was now in the hands of the same two who had tried to get into her parents' home before. Ron kept hoping he was in a nightmare and could wake up. Hermione was at the mercy of LeStrange and Greyback. But this time she was all alone. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

By five that evening, there had been no progress and no breakthroughs. The aurors seemed to be waiting for whatever communication was going to come the next day. Ron was mad with worry. Kingsley said he was leaving one auror at the shop, but that the rest were going to head out and regroup in the morning. Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"WE'RE JUST LEAVING HER WITH THOSE TWO BASTARDS? THEY ARE PROBABLY TORTURING HER AND RAPING HER RIGHT NOW AND WE ARE JUST FUCKING SITTING HERE? ARE YOU MAD? DO YOU HAVE _ANY FUCKING IDEA_ WHAT HERMIONE HAS DONE FOR YOU? EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU OWES HER YOUR FUCKING LIFE AND THE BIG PLAN IS TO FUCKING SLEEP ON IT WHILE THEY RAPE HER AND BEAT HER AND CURSE HER?"

"Ron," Kinglsey grimaced in reply, "I don't like it either. But at this point we don't have any idea where they might be. We have folks back at headquarters looking into possible locations of hideouts, but if we knew where those two had been hiding all this time we would have arrested them by now. If you have any other ideas, I am all ears. But if not, then we just have to regroup in the morning and see if we have developed any more leads overnight."

Ron, purple in fury, simply stared at Kingsley, tears running down his face but at an utter loss for words to express his disappointment in the Minister's betrayal of his trust and faith. George mumbled thanks to Kingsley and pulled Ron away. He told the assigned auror to hang out in the now closed shop, but that he was handling Ron. He led his numb little brother up the stairs and into his flat.

"Sit," George commanded as he pushed his brother into a chair at his kitchen table. "Now you need to drink this," George instructed as he poured a glass of Firewhisky.

"I can't just sit here and get drunk while they do – fuck I can't even think about what they are doing to her…" Ron wailed.

"I know that, Ron. But you are worthless right now. A couple of stiff drinks could calm your nerves enough to help you think clearly. If you guys figured out how to kill Voldemort you are fucking smart enough to track down these two assholes."

He pushed the full glass to Ron.

Ron downed it, but said, "Hermione and Harry were the smart ones. I didn't do any of that shit. I was like the court jester that fucked things up every now and then, and now…"

"That's bollocks and you know it. Drink another," George instructed as he refilled the glass. "I was there in the Room of Requirement when you figured out how to get the basilisk fangs to get kill him, you know. That was you. I saw it with my own eyes."

"Ok. I had one idea over the whole year, and you happened to witness it."

"FUCK IT, RON! This is not the time for your worthless bullshit! You can tell me later how it was all my idea and you are really an idiot or something, but right now I need you to fucking work with me here. _YOU_ can help her. I know you can. You are the most brilliant strategist I know. You haven't lost at chess since you were 7 years old. You can fucking beat these two dimwits at this bullshit . You just need to get your head in the game."

"SHE'S NOT A FUCKING CHESS PIECE, GEORGE!"

"I know that, you prat. But you can outthink these two. You need to get your head in the game and go get Hermione back."

Ron had another drink and finally seemed to stop shaking. The brothers moved over to the sofa in front of the large board they had transfigured.

"Now. Let's figure it out. What do we know?" asked George.

Ron finally took a deep breath and nodded as he began to brainstorm with his brother. Soon the board was covered with things that were known, unknown and suspected. They knew the time and place she went missing. They suspected she was with Greyback and LeStrange, who had presumably taken her wand. They didn't know where she was or what condition she was in, except to presume that they had somehow prevented her from speaking – either through a gag or a charm, or else the deluminator would have worked already.

"Doesn't seem like a lot to go on," commented Ron. "We have to know more than this. What was she wearing today? I didn't see her at all this morning? What can you remember?"

"Um – well, I think she had on jeans and one of your old Weasley jumpers."

"Did she have her beaded bag?"

"Um, no, I don't think so. At least, I don't recall seeing it."

"Wait – shit how did I not think of this already – what was her hair like?"

"Uh – bushy as usual, mate."

"No, you idiot. Was she wearing a hairclip? Was she wearing THE hairclip?"

"FUCK! I think she was!" With that the boys tore into the shop store room to find the parchment they had charmed. Ron's hope surged as he dashed down the stairs. He knew the charm hadn't been perfected yet, but at least it could give them so general idea of where to start.

After digging through some piles of parchment, George found it and tapped it with his wand. They held their breath and suddenly a single word appeared across the page…

"Northumberland."

They had immediately talked to the auror at the shop and let them know about their discovery. Ron was sorely disappointed when they didn't all immediately head off to find her. Kingsley, while thrilled at the breakthrough, tried to talk some sense into Ron, pointing out that Northumberland was a rather large part of England so they still didn't have a specific place to go and search. But, he assured Ron that at the start of the day they would work through any possible leads, no matter how suspect, that had anything to do with Northumberland.

Ron was starting to rage again when George stepped in. "Kingsley, how about a bargain, huh? I'll drug Ron here and get him to sleep for a few hours if you promise to have Harry here before he wakes up. Deal?"

Kingsley agreed, and Ron was soon knocked out with a small dose of dreamless sleep potion secretly added to his drink.

Ron awoke confused and groggy, unsure of why he was in Fred's old bed at George's flat. Then suddenly everything crashed back onto him like a tsunami of pain, and he was quickly back in the agony of the night before. He staggered out of Fred's old room and headed to the kitchen where he soon found almost his entire family crammed into the tiny flat. George, Bill, Harry and his dad were around the kitchen table. His mum, Ginny, Fleur and Percy were over on the sofa.

They all looked up at him painfully and then Harry came up and said quietly, "I'm so sorry mate. We are going to get her back. I promise." He hugged Ron, who was quickly overcome with tears.

"I can't do this again, Harry," Ron whispered, trying to shield his face from the rest of the family.

"Yes you can, Ron. You saved her last time, and you _will_ do it again. And this time we are going to kill those bastards and end this, alright? All of us. We are all going to do everything we can until she is back in your arms where she belongs."

Before he knew it, his mum was bustling around the kitchen and forcing food on him. He didn't want to eat anything, but George insisted, "You need to get your head in the game. And you are never fully focused when you're hungry. Eat."

He complied and had soon downed a full Molly Weasley breakfast. As he finished Kingsley came in, quickly updating everyone on the plan for the day. A team of aurors had been sent to Newcastle-Upon-Tyne where they were searching all locations with any documented connection to current or former Death Eaters. This would continue until they received word from the kidnappers on the anticipated offer to trade Harry for Hermione, at which time they would develop a more refined plan.

Ron was pissed. Some blokes looking around sheds in Newcastle was hardly helping matters. Kingsley insisted it was the best they could do for now until they received more information from the kidnappers, and then headed out leaving Ron fuming.

"I can't sit here pacing and worrying. I just can't. I have to be DOING something or I will utterly mad."

"I'm all ears, mate," Harry retorted.

"And I can't sit here with everyone just watching me waiting for me to lose my shite either."

George intervened. "Ok, everyone. Me, Ron and Harry are going down to the shop breakroom for a bit for a change of scenery." With that, he dragged the two of them down the stairs.

Ron was now pacing the breakroom in the shop instead of the kitchen in the flat. Still wasn't helping, but the audience was smaller.

"Ok. Ok . What would Hermione do if the roles were switched," he asked out loud but mostly to himself.

George at Harry and Ron and shrugged.

Harry pondered for a moment and then offered, "Read a book about Northumberland?"

"Maybe. Well – probably – but I think she would insist that we have the information we need but we're just looking at it wrong. Just like with those damn stories, you know?"

George looked confused, but Harry just nodded.

"George, can you conjure one of those big boards again so we can write shit down?" Ron asked.

Soon the three were brainstorming again, and the board was covered with different thoughts and ideas. Before long, Harry and Ginny set off to Flourish and Blotts to see what books they could find about Northumberland. When they had gone, George stood in front of the board re-looking at everything that had been written down. Ron slumped into a chair holding his face in his hands. But after five minutes, Ron's head snapped up, his eyes suddenly alight and fueled by the hope of a new idea.

"George! The hairclip!"

"I know, Ron. We tried that, remember? We know she's in Northumberland, but that's as far as we've gotten."

"I know – I know – but is the charm applied to the hairclip or to the parchment here?"

"Well, it's to both, but…" George stopped talking and started writing things on the board. "Wait, I think I see where you're going with this. Let me pop out and grab Bill."

Soon the three brothers were working to change the charm on the parchment. They reasoned the location charm applied to the hairclip knew where it was, so the issue was simply refining the parchment's reception charm to relay more precisely detailed information. Ron sat and watched as George and Bill added layer after complicated layer to the charm. He was getting frustrated but knew it wasn't his area of expertise. But after two hours of listening to his brothers talk themselves in circles, he could no longer keep his mouth shut.

"It can't be this fucking complicated!" he finally shouted.

George and Bill looked back at him with blank faces.

"Ron, you know we've been working on this for weeks," George said softly. "Even Hermione couldn't figure it out. We're trying – we really are."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I know you are doing your best. I just – ARRRGGGHHH," Ron screamed as he slammed his fist against the storeroom wall.

Understanding his Ron's need for release, George soon conjured up a punching bag. After a few minutes beating the bag, Ron was visibly calmer and thinking more clearly.

"It's just," he said as punched the bag. "If we're trying to get at the same idea as the magic behind the Marauders' Map." Another punch. "Then we are overthinking this." Punch. "James, Remus and Sirius were teenagers when they made it." Punch. "Young ones." Punch. "They had to be taking a simpler approach." Punch, cross-punch. "I think we need to think simple and deep. Not shallow and complex." Punch. Now breathing hard, he leaned his forehead against the bag for a moment. Then after a moment, for the 500th time in the past day, he pulled out the deluminator and willed her voice to come out of it, but to no avail.

"I am not disagreeing," offered Bill. "But I don't have an idea to go on."

Ron stood still next to the bad, closing his eyes for a moment and then asked, "Anyone know where we could get a second or third year charms textbook?"

"Actually – we kept all of those," said George. Then, reacting to the gobsmacked looks on his brothers' faces he said "What? Me and Freddie knew our business would be in this kind of thing, so charms were key."

As they worked through the twins' text books, they each came up with some different ideas to try. Harry and Ginny had returned, and Ron instructed them to comb through the Northumberland books to see what they could come up with. Percy and his dad were back at the Ministry trying to find any leads on possible locations in Northumberland to search. And Molly and Fleur were trying to keep everyone fed and rested. Ron felt they were close to figuring out the charm issue, but were still missing something.

Around 2 in the afternoon, an owl arrived at the shop with a letter addressed to "Ron Weasley, Blood Traitor." Immediately everyone stopped what they were doing and waited as the lead auror removed the parchment from the owl's leg and checked in for curses. When no enchantments were detected, he gave it to Ron to unroll and read the parchment.

Ron read it aloud with a scratchy voice, " _Blood Traiter, I trust that you are ready to trade your chosen one friend for your mudblood lover. Potter is to come. Alone. Once we have him, we will release the girl. The address is below. 10 pm tonight. Believe me when I say he is to come alone. You, blood traitor, should wait at your joke of a shop in Diagon Alley, where we will send the mudblood after the trade._ " At the bottom of the parchment, an address was scrawled across the bottom.

As the words sunk in, Ron felt a wave of nauseau overcome him, and he ran to the loo to vomit. As he came out from the bathroom, he saw the aurors and Harry consulting around the parchment.

"I'm going, Ron," stated an excited Harry. "It's in Northumberland. It confirms what we know. I will go get her."

"Are you daft, Harry? They aren't going to just send her on through the floo once you surrender. They are going to kill you both."

"No, Ron. The aurors just reviewed the address. It's an old warehouse complex outside of the city with distant connections to the LeStranges. It could absolutely be a place where they are holding her. I will appear to go alone, but the aurors will go in undercover as muggle construction workers this evening to get everything in place."

"This is a bad idea, Harry. Now you're going to piss them off and get yourself killed. And I just don't think that she's there. It doesn't make any sense. Why would they kidnap her just to trade her away a day later to get you. Why not just get you in the first place? Something is off. Believe me, no one wants her back more than I do, but I just don't think this is the way to do it."

"These guys know what they're doing. They're professionals, Ron."

"I don't think so, Harry. They hadn't been able to get a single freaking clue about their location until suddenly the bastards send an address and the aurors confirm it in ten minutes? No way. I know you want to trust them and prove yourself to your new colleagues, but this is bullshit."

"That's out of line, Ron. I would never put Hermione at risk so I could get ahead at work and you know it. I want to get these bastards as much as you do. But we don't have a better plan. Why not try this? If they want to kidnap me – then let them. Then at least Hermione won't be alone. She and I have a better chance of getting out if there are two of us."

"It makes no sense, Harry," Ron protested. "Why would they do this? All they are doing is trying to throw us off and send us on a wild goose chase while maybe they get you as well. It doesn't add up. I say we tell them we'll meet them tonight, but in reality we just keep working on this charm. I think we're close."

"Ron – I'd do anything to help you and Hermione. But, I just don't think putting all of our trust in a joke product made by your brother is the way to find her."

"It's not a fucking joke, Harry. It's good magic. We're trying to reproduce what your own Dad did with the damn map. Why can't you get that?"

"I don't think it's a joke, Ron. Hermione is like a sister to me. I would do anything for her. But I don't think the hairclip charm is going to help us get her back. We need to trust the aurors nd their expertise."

"You know what, Harry - I don't have the energy to argue with you about this. You want to trust the aurors? Fine – go for it. Head off to Newcastle with the aurors, run around the empty warehouses and try not to get killed. I'm staying here and working on this charm. I know we can find her this way. I just know it."

Harry bit his tongue and did not snap back at his oldest friend. Instead he sighed, saying, "OK. We'll split up and regroup later tonight. Hopefully we'll both learn more by then and we will get her back one way or the other. Are you ok?"

"Yea, mate. You go. I'm ok here." Then Ron paused, rubbing his hand over his stubbly jaw before adding, "If on the off chance you see her – tell her, tell her," but he couldn't finish as the emotion choked his words.

"I know, Ron. I'll tell her," Harry said as he placed his hand on Ron's shoulder.

Ron nodded, sniffed and said, "Yea. Thanks. And send a patronus if you learn anything else, alright?"

"Right."

Once Harry departed with the aurors to prepare for their mission in Newcastle, George, Bill and Ron returned to the charm work. They had created another parchment and charmed object to practice their work on. Bill decided he would apperate with the charmed shirt back to The Burrow, and then they would refine the parchment's charm until they could shift it from saying "Devon" to saying "The Burrow, Devon." When Bill departed for The Burrow, George continued talking to himself, thinking out loud as he continued to refine the charm. He muttered something about a product Rocks had, and Ron jumped at the name.

"George, could Rocks help with this?"

"Well, um, if he wasn't in Australia he might be able to. He's been helping me work through some of the charms work via owl."

"Percy could set up a portkey for him, couldn't he?"

"Uh, I guess so. I mean – it's the middle of the night there, so the shop is closed, but he's an older guy. I am not sure he can just portkey across the world," George said. But George turned back towards his baby brother to realize he was only speaking to Ron's back, as Ron was running out the door to get Percy to make it happen.

Within an hour, they had arranged for the portkey, and Percy was waiting to meet Rocks at the Ministry. Ron chuckled a bit thinking of Rocks and Percy. Definitely not the most likely pairing. George and Ron hadn't gone into detail about Rocks to the family. So, all Percy knew is that he was waiting on an Australian charms expert to arrive via portkey to assist in the search for Hermione. Needless to say, Percy was more than a little confused when Rocks arrived in the Ministry conference room.

George hadn't been able to go into detail about the situation with Rocks either, so when a confused Percy arrived at WWW with the wound up Rocks, George had some explaining to do to both of them. Given that time was a factor, Percy was left gaping and gawking, as George rushed Rocks back into his workroom where they continued to revise the charm.

Once Rocks arrived, Ron took the opportunity to step back, have some tea and watch Rocks and George work. He hadn't ever observed these two at work on a creative problem, and it was a site to behold. It reminded him a lot of watching Fred and George work on things – it was as if there was some sort of unspoken conversation going on in the room. If Ron wasn't so terrified for Hermione he would have found it fascinating. But, as he thought his heart could shatter in a million pieces at any given moment, he simply continued to open and close the deluminator wishing he could hear Hermione call his name. Wishing he could do anything.

Ron wasn't sure how long they had been in the windowless workroom. When he walked back out to the shop he noticed the sun had gone down, but he wasn't quite sure of the time. He needed to stretch his legs a bit, so he strolled out onto Diagon Alley. He realized he hadn't been outside in over 24 hours. As he looked up at the moon, he tried to still his mind and somehow let Hermione know he was trying to come for her. Willing her to feel his love. Willing her to be strong. Willing her to help him find her. After a few minutes he went back into the shop and headed back to the workroom. As he walked through the door, he saw the George and Rocks hugging each other and jumping up and down.

"What?" Ron demanded.

George simply held up the parchment that now showed the location of the shirt as "The Burrow, Devon."

Ron let out a huge exhale.

"You guys are amazing. You did it! Eventually tell me how, but right now we need to go find Hermione. Can you charm the other parchment to be more specific as well?"

George nodded, and got to work while Rocks patted Ron on the back. Within a few minutes, the three of them were looking at the parchment when it suddenly changed to read, "Alnwick Castle, Northumberland, England."

"There she is," Ron said as he smacked his hand to the table in both relief and determination. "I'm gonna go get her back."

He turned to walk out of the room before George grabbed his arm.

"Wait a minute, Ron," George protested. "You can't just go alone. You'll get killed, and get Hermione killed in the process. Don't you want to let Kingsley or Harry know?"

"What time is it now?" asked Ron, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Half past nine" replied George.

"Well, Harry is off in Newcastle at the decoy warehouse as we speak. The 'handoff' is in half an hour. We should let him play that hand out, don't you think?"

"This is not my area of expertise, Ron. I can make the charms. You have to figure out what we do with it."

"Rocks, thoughts?"

"Well, mate. It's been a long time since I've done anything like this. More than fifty years, so I am certainly not the ring leader here. But, I think you should trust your instinct. You can figure it out. Use us to help you work out a way to get her out of there. We're all there for her. And for you."

"Alright. Ok. Um – let's do it," Ron said quickly.

"Any of those books Harry and Ginny had have a section on that castle?" George asked.

They soon put their heads together and found a chapter on the castle, including a layout of the main tourist areas and sketches of some of the layouts of the different floors. Deciding to keep quiet about their plans in order to prevent the other Weasleys from tagging along, George offered to go with Ron to Alnwick. George and Rocks hastily assembled a number of products from the shop they thought might be useful as a distraction, and then Ron and George apperated to the woods outside of the castle.

George stared up at the dark outline of the ancient building and decided it looked oddly like Hogwarts with no lights on. Then realizing his baby brother had already started moving swiftly towards the castle, he hustled to catch up. Falling into step behind his focused brother, George noticed Ron was clearly in his element. On a mission. Fighting dark wizards. Rescuing Hermione. George, however, was more than slightly terrified, as his element was back in the workroom as his shop. But he summoned every bit of Gryffindor courage he had, and even called on some of Fred's as he tried to keep up with Ron.

The two made their way through the castle gardens, past the first outer stoner walls and through the gravel courtyard. Soon Ron found a door he could open with a simple spell, which he did, wisely casting a silencing spell to ensure the ancient hinges didn't betray them. They slinked along the dank castle walls until they located a winding stone stairwell. Using only his hands, Ron let George know they needed to head down into the depths of the castle.

Ron just knew in his gut that Hermione was not held in an upstairs bedroom like a damsel in distress. As he had learned the hard way, captives were kept in dungeons. And he was sure this castle had one, he just had to find it. He was hoping that LeStrange and Greyback had both left to go chase Harry around Newcastle so that he had enough time to get in, rescue Hermione and get out before they got back.

The brothers made their way down the stairwell in an octagonal tower. They slowly made their way down as far as it would go. When the stairwell ended they were in a pitch black cellar. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing in either direction, Ron realized he wouldn't be able to locate her in the pitch black dungeon without at least a little light. But, he didn't want to give away his position, so he whispered "lumos minima" and had his wand emit a fraction of a ray of light. Now being able to make out their surroundings, the brothers followed the long hallway for some ways until they came upon a locked area. Magically unlocking the first set of bars, they quietly made their way into the dungeon. They passed several empty cells, but then at the very end they found one that had an extra chain on the barred door. The brothers peered into the darkness trying to see if anyone was inside, or if anyone was guarding it, but they were unable to make anything out. They called for Hermione in whispers, but heard no response. Finally, Ron increased the light from his wand and gasped as he saw Hermione's crumpled form huddled in the far corner of the locked cell.

He immediately unlocked the cell door and dashed to her side calling her name.

"Hermione!" he cried, falling to his knees and grabbing her hand to check for a pulse with George close behind. Feeling a light but steady pulse, Ron scooped her up, and saw that her mouth had been charmed so that her lips were sealed shut. She wasn't conscious, but she was alive and breathing steadily.

"We need to get out of here, Ron," George said. "Let's disapperate and then heal her at home."

Ron nodded, standing up with Hermione once again unconscious in his arms. As he shook off the memory, he went to disapperate when he suddenly heard the pop of someone apperating into the dungeon.

"Shit," whispered George.

Ron immediately shoved Hermione into George's arms. "Take her home. NOW. I'll follow."

"I'm not leaving you here!"

"NOW!" he yelled in a whisper.

Just before he put out the light from his wand, Ron saw the pained look in George's eyes just before he turned and disapperated with Hermione in his arms. Ron turned to the sound of the earlier pop and waited. It only took a few seconds, and then he saw him. Greyback.

The werewolf who had maimed his brother and who had tortured and kidnapped the love of his life was strutting towards him with his wand beaming light. The years of training to disarm ran through his brain, but Ron shook it off. He was absolutely done with this vile creature. He pointed his wand, and didn't hesitate for a minute as he uttered those two unforgiveable words. The green flash hit the werewolf before he even realized Ron was there. As his carcass hit the dungeon floor, Ron felt nothing but numbness towards the creature in front of him. Before he could think anymore, he heard a second pop of apperation. He slinked against the stone wall and waited. This time it was LeStrange, but he wasn't alone. Gagged and bound in front of him was Harry.

Cursing silently in his head, he quickly looked over Harry as best as he could by the light of Lestrange's wand. Harry had clearly been hit by several blows, as he was bleeding on his forehead, and his glasses were gone. Ron knew he couldn't see a damn thing without them. Harry staggered along as LeStrange pushed him towards the cell where he thought Hermione was. But when he reached the cell door and found it open, his head snapped up and LeStrange suddenly found himself at the end of Ron's wand.

"DROP YOUR WAND, LESTRANGE."

"Not a chance," he snarled in return. "You are finally here."

"DROP IT."

"Why? I now have what I want."

"Hermione is gone. She's safe."

"The mudblood was never who I was after. Bitches like her aren't good for much more than bait. Well, maybe a bit of tasty fun on the side, but mostly bait. It's you I'm after Weasley."

With rage roaring in his ears, he cried "Bastard. Me? I thought you wanted Harry."

"Potter is a bonus. I wanted to punish you, you blood traitor. Traitors have to pay. Your mother killed my wife. Your best friend killed my lord. Now I am going to kill everyone you love. But don't worry. I'll keep you alive so you can enjoy the anguish of the hell you are about to experience."

Harry was now standing stronger, seemingly having regained his balance. Though still blind without his glasses, Ron could tell Harry had figured out where both he and Ron were standing.

"Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now, LeStrange?" barked Ron, his wand still pointed directly at LeStrange.

"You don't have it in you."

"Really?" Ron scoffed. "Because I just killed Greyback over there. Surprised you didn't trip on his carcass as you came in."

LeStrange didn't turn his head, but Ron could see his eyes flinch as he tried to see Greyback in his peripheral vision. Harry's eyes had gone wide, but he said nothing.

"Greyback was only an asset, Weasley. One that could be easily replaced."

"I'm tired of your shit, LeStrange. You can't keep your wand on both me and Harry, can you? You are outnumbered."

"Outnumbered? He's bound, gagged and wandless!"

"You're talking about my best mate – he's managed to survive the killing curse twice. I'm not too worried about his ability to get out of your little binding curse."

Just as LeStrange flinched to sneak a glance at his prisoner, Harry yanked his arms, throwing LeStrange off balance. Seizing the moment, Ron immediately disarmed LeStrange, bound him, and then tied him to the cell bars. He then removed Harry's restraints and promptly gagged LeStrange.

"Good to see you, Harry," he laughed.

"Just like old times, huh?"

"Well, at least then you could see!" Ron laughed. "Alright, let's send a patronus to your auror buddies to come clean this shit up. I need to get back to Hermione."

"Is she ok?"

"She was unconscious when George disapperated away with her," Ron said nervously. Then he quickly conjured a patronus to the aurors, and then one to George assuring him he was alright, and he and Harry would come as soon as possible.

The aurors were soon swarming all over the castle. They took LeStrange into custody, and removed Greyback's body. Peppering Ron with questions, they tried to comprehend how the two joke shop brothers had managed to track down Hermione when the entire auror force couldn't. Ron tried to answer the questions as patiently as possible, but once the questions seemed to become repetitive he'd had enough. He just ran his hands through his hair, sighed and announced he would meet Kingsley the next day and follow up on any outstanding issues, but he had to get back to Hermione. As the aurors began to protest, Ron disapperated on the spot.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Arriving at St Mungos, Ron had rushed down the hall towards the room they said Hermione was in. But, when he got to her door, he hesitated before he actually entered her room. Then taking a deep breath, and saying a silent prayer, he quietly opened the door. The room was dark, but he could see her tiny frame laid out on the bed. Ron walked quietly to the bed, and jumped slightly as George spoke up in a hushed voice.

"She hasn't woken up yet. The Healers said she had quite a few broken bones, but those have been healed. They fixed whatever those bastards had done to her mouth. But, she hasn't so much as stirred since we got here."

"Thank you, George. Thank you for getting her here – for taking care of her. I, I..."

"Please," George said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Don't _EVER_ ask me to leave you like that again. I will not lose another brother, Ron. I can't. Don't ever do that to me again, do you understand?"

"Shit. I'm sorry, George. I didn't even think about – well - I just knew she had to get out of there, and I had more experience doing that shit than you did."

"S'alright. I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the same if I'd been in your shoes. Just – please don't ever make me do that again."

"Ok. I promise. And, um, I killed Greyback."

"Really? Are you ok? Did he bite you?"

"Actually – I killed him before he even knew I was there. Maybe not quite ethical, but I didn't care – don't care. It was past time. He needed to go."

"Fuck."

"LeStrange showed up right after that – with Harry as a prisoner no less," he said, rolling his eyes. "But, it all worked out. I disarmed him and got the aurors. He's been arrested and is probably in Azkaban by now."

"All this to get back at Harry?"

Ron was silent for a few minutes, simply staring at Hermione's hand as he stroked it. Then he sighed, "No. He said it was to get back at me."

George didn't say anything, but simply gawked at his brother.

"Said I was a blood traitor, and he was going to make me pay by forcing me to watch him kill and torture everyone I loved."

"That's fucked up."

"He did this to her because of me," Ron gasped as his voice cracked.

"No – Ron. He did this to her because he was a psychotic maniac. Our mum killed his psychotic bitch of a wife – who had tortured Hermione. And Harry killed his cult leader. This is not your fault. He was a fucked up wizard."

Ron didn't say anything, but kept staring at Hermione, holding her hand. Sensing Ron's spiraling thoughts, George tried to keep the conversation going. "So is Harry there now cleaning everything up?"

Ron gave a small laugh, "Actually – Harry lost his glasses when he was kidnapped, so he is as blind as a bat right now. And he didn't have a wand either. When I left the aurors were falling over themselves trying to figure out how the ginger gits who run a joke shop figured it out before they did."

"No shite? Well, now _that_ is funny," George smiled.

Ron gave a weak smile back, but they both knew it was forced.

They sat in an awkward silence for a while until the door opened and a familiar face came through.

"Healer Helen," a surprised Ron said. "I am so pleased to know you are taking care of Hermione!"

"Hello, Ron," she replied. "It is good to see you again, though I am so sorry about the circumstances." Ron simply nodded. So, she continued, "George, thank you for staying with her. Could I ask you to step out for a few minutes? Usually healers can only talk to family members, but Hermione has previously given me permission to talk about her health with Ron."

"Oh, absolutely. I was really just a Ron fill-in anyway," he joked. "Ron – we're all out in the waiting room if you need us."

Ron nodded again and tightened his grip on Hermione's hand while he turned his attention to the healer. Once George left, the healer took a seat on the other end of the bed near Hermione's feet.

"Will she be ok?" he asked tentatively.

"I think so. At least physically," she said quietly, giving Ron a sad smile.

"I – I don't know what happened to her there," Ron choked as he blinked back tears. "When I found her – she was unconscious." He stroked Hermione's hair as he continued. "They had clearly charmed her mouth closed so she couldn't speak. And, and she looked beaten. But…but…" he was crying at this point, and the healer watched him with a pained but patient face.

"Ron – Ron, you got her out of there. Again. And she will get better. Again."

"Sorry. Sorry," he said futilely attempting to wipe the tears from his face. "The letters…they threatened…just like at Malfoy Manor…did they, was she…" he couldn't bring himself to ask what he was dying to know and yet didn't want to consider.

"I don't believe she was raped, Ron."

At that he let out a huge breath he wasn't aware he was holding in. It came out as both a gasp and a wail, but he fell over her on the bed in crumpled relief, placing his forehead to her hand and closing his eyes.

As he steadied his breath, Healer Helen continued, "Its ok, Ron. I can only imagine how terrifying this has been for you both. My initial exam showed she had been beaten, and you noted the charm to her mouth, but I didn't find any evidence that she was sexually assaulted or tortured with additional crucios. Her clothes were slightly ripped, but not completely – could have been from the initial struggle. We won't know until Hermione shares it with us. But, something clearly has happened that has her unconscious. And I am concerned that I don't yet know what that is."

Looking up, Ron asked in a quiet voice, "Do you have any guesses?"

"Well, I've come up with a few possibilities. She could have been beaten in such a way that she has a bad concussion. I don't see bruising on her head to indicate that, but it is absolutely a possibility. There could be some curse that was used on her that I haven't figured out. But, from what I have learned of LeStrange, he was evil but not terribly clever. So, I am less worried about that."

"So what is it that you really think happened, then?"

"I am worried that this is a combination of psychological and physical reactions."

Ron looked at her, confusion written across his face.

"You've seen her when she's had anxiety attacks, right?"

Ron nodded.

"And, her pattern seemed to be to go mute when she was scared. She retreated to a place where she felt safe, and then she closed herself off to all of the scary outside threats that her mind saw."

"OK. So, if that is what's going on – then why is she still out? Wouldn't she snap out of it once she was safe?"

"Well, on top of her pattern of that type of anxiety attacks, she is still very fragile physically. She is tiny, and the rapid change in her blood pressure due to the fear could have added to the problem. That, compounded with her existing nutritional issues, could explain what is going on."

"So what can we do about that? How can we help her?"

"Well, we will have some potions for her that will continue to strengthen her body – with both calories and nutrients to help her heal herself."

"But how do you get her to wake up? Just a renarverte spell?"

"I'm afraid we've tried that already. I'm afraid, Ron, the task of bringing her back will once again fall to you."

"What do you mean? I'm not a healer – that's your job. I sell trick wands and candy that makes you throw up! I can't do anything like that!"

"I think you can. And I think she needs you to. Hermione has faced a series of traumatic events – any one of which would send most people over the edge. Each of those times, she has been rescued. By you. But she doesn't know that yet about this experience. What I am suggesting is that I leave here in a few minutes, and leave you to spend time with her alone. You can talk to her, let her know you are here and that she is safe. And, I suspect she needs to know that no other family or friends are here so she can come back in the least vulnerable way. Not that she doesn't love and trust that horde of people out in the waiting room. Just – I can imagine it being a bit overwhelming."

"Well, that I understand. My family can certainly be a bit overwhelming at times. No matter how well intended they are."

"So, what do you think? Are you up for it?"

"I'd do anything for Hermione. You know that, or at least I hope you do."

"I do. So, what can I get for you so you can be here for a while?"

Ron thought for a moment. "How long do you think we'll be here?"

"I have no way to know for sure. But it could be a few days."

"Could I get George or my mum to sit with her for a while so I can pop home to get some of our things? It shouldn't take me long. You don't think she'd wake up while I was gone?"

"No, I don't, and I think that would be fine. Take your time and shower, as you've obviously had a difficult few days yourself. I'll go fetch one of them. Do you have any other questions for me?"

"Um – will she be in pain when she wakes up?"

"I can't say for sure, but I don't think she'll be in a lot of pain. She will be sore and stiff, but nothing as bad as she's handled before. Her broken bones, bruises and other injuries will have healed by then. So, unless there is a curse we didn't pick up on, she shouldn't be in a lot of pain. But, I think she will be quite upset, though. And that will be extremely difficult for you to see."

Ron nodded.

"I noticed you guys found a way to practically get rid of her scars. How did you manage that?"

Ron smiled broadly. "Actually, you'll love this. Her mum is a dentist, a kind of muggle tooth healer. Anyway, she suggested treating it like they treat muggle scars with some sort of special muggle light beam – and it worked! Once we explained that word to her mum, she was particularly pleased to have erased the scar with muggle technology."

"That is absolutely _brilliant_! On so many levels! I think that is exactly the kind of thing that convinces me you guys will both be ok, and that you have the creative, spunky support of both of your families. This is another rough patch, but you will be ok."

"I am sensing our rough patches are tougher than most couples face," joked Ron sarcastically.

"Ron," Healer Helen responded kindly, "you are doing an amazing job taking care of her. Trust that, OK? Once she is awake again, I can help her too. But trust that you are who she needs now."

Ron looked back at Hermione. "I don't know that I believe it. But I am trying to do it anyway. Kind of how I do things I suppose."

"OK – I'll go fetch your mum and then you can go fetch your things, ok?"

"Yeah – can you fill her in on everything? Like you did back at The Burrow? I think I understand what's going on, but I don't think I could explain it to anyone right now."

"Sure. I will. I know Hermione is so fond of your mum."

"Um – I just thought of it – should we contact her parents in Australia? They aren't due to come back for another month or so."

"Well. We can if you would like. Or we can see how the next day or so goes, and then hopefully call them tomorrow and let them know that she is awake."

"Yeah – let's do that. I'll call them tomorrow either way, but let's give this a shot first."

In less than an hour he was back from the house having grabbed a quick shower, thrown on clean clothes for himself and fetched some clothes and other things to make Hermione as comfortable as possible. After he had thanked his mum and seen her out, he sat on the edge of the bed for a moment watching Hermione rest. Healer Helen placed a sign on the door to their room so no one would bother them, but she assured him she would come as soon as he needed her.

"Hermione, love, it's me. Can you hear me?"

She did not stir.

"I am not sure how we are here again, but it feels like we have done this before. But there are two good parts – first, you've always come back to me before, so I believe you will again. And second, Greyback and LeStrange can't hurt you anymore. I killed Greyback, Hermione. He's gone. He'll never touch you or even think your name again. And LeStrange has been taken to Azkaban. You are totally safe."

He stroked her face and tucked some curls behind her ear.

"So, here is what I think we'll do. First, I am going to attempt to conjur up those little blue flame thingys you make. I'll probably do a bollocks job, but hopefully it will be less depressing than this dark room. Then I am going to get you out of this horrible hospital gown and into your softest pajamas - you know, those pink ones with the little roses on them? Then I am going to make this bed a little bigger, and we are both going to curl up under my super amazing Chudley Cannons blanket, and I'll read to you for a bit, ok? And anytime you are ready to wake up and tell me I'm doing it wrong, I am happy to hear it, alright?"

He kissed her cheek and started to conjur up the soft blue flames in the room. Then he got her changed from the hospital gown into the soft pajamas. He had only changed her clothes that one time after Malfoy Manor, and while this was mentally hard, it wasn't nearly as awful as that experience. This time they were much more comfortable with each other's bodies, so he didn't blush at the thought of seeing her naked. He had brought her own pillow from home, and tucked her into the blankets. He then enlarged the bed, changed into sweatpants and an old quidditch jersey and crawled in next to her, pulling his orange blanket over top of them. He propped up against the head board, and pulled Hermione close to him so that her head was tucked against his thigh. He stroked her cheek gently and sighed.

"I'm going to read for a little bit, love. But I am pretty knackered from this day too, not to mention I don't know if it is the middle of the night or already morning, so I might not stay awake too long. Not that I don't find this book invigorating, it's just that I prefer you reading it to me than the other way around." With that he opened the well-worn copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and began reading aloud. After only a few pages, he found that he was falling asleep in between sentences, so he closed the book, curled up to her, and fell asleep.

He was disoriented when he woke up hours later, but soon the events of the days before came crashing back onto him. He propped up on one elbow and kissed Hermione's cheek.

"Hermione, love, can you wake up? It's time to get up." He waited, but got no response. He sighed, and spooned up behind her, holding her tightly.

"I'm not quite ready to read this morning yet, ok? So, I'll just tell you some stories about us for a bit. Do you remember that time the summer before Bill and Fleur's wedding? Did I ever tell you about the book the Fred and George had gotten for me? They were so tired of watching me screw everything up, they honestly went out and bought me this book about how to charm witches. I thought it was a joke at first, but then they convinced me it was meant earnestly. I studied that thing as much as you've studied _Hogwarts a History_. Not that you could tell by the stupid things I did in the following year, but Merlin did I try. Then there was that few weeks between when you came and when we pulled off that crazy mission to get Harry from his horrid relatives. Those were some of the best weeks I'd ever had. I know Mum was working us to the bone getting ready for that wedding. But, I would try to get assigned chores with you, just so I could be near you. Then there were those few times we were able to sneak off and swim in the pond. I thought I would die seeing you in a bathing suit for the first time. You were so unbelievably gorgeous, and there I was with my glow in the dark pale skin covered in freckles. All I wanted to do was pin you to a tree and snog you senseless. If you'd have told that pasty ginger teenager that in just over a year we'd be living together alone in your parents' house I would have laughed in your face. But it's true, you know? We are just right at our happily ever after. You just need to come back to me, love. You've taken your NEWTs. We've gotten rid of the last two people trying to harm us. We just get to be together now. But you need to wake up, Hermione. I can't have happily ever after without you."

He kissed her lips, hoping he'd feel a response, but there was none. He sat up, trying not to succumb to the frustration he felt as he brushed the curls away from her face. She looked so peaceful, but he knew if she was trapped away in her mind, she was not at peace.

He kept telling stories. He told her about the day they met on the Hogwarts Express; about the dirt on his nose and Neville's toad. He told her about the chess match and how they had worried about Harry that summer. He told her about the flying car and the whomping willow; about vomiting slugs and brewing polyjuice potion in the girls' loo; about visiting her in hospital when she'd turned herself into a cat. He told her about how he'd worried about her during their third year, and how shocked he'd been when he discovered she'd had a time turner. He laughed remembering the day she went off on Trelawney and stormed out of Divination. He told her about the Triwizard tournament and how amazing she'd been bringing he and Harry back together. He told her of Fred and George's escapades, and their triumphant exit from Hogwarts. He talked about how sorry he was about Lavendar, and about how relieved he was to wake up from the poisoning to find her there. He shared how much he'd loved her and how precious their dance at Bill and Fleur's wedding had been; and how nervous he'd been holding her hand at Grimmauld Place after their escape.

Eventually Ron realized he had been talking for over an hour. He kissed her and said he was going to the loo and would be right back. In the bathroom he washed his face and did a cleansing charm. He stared at himself in the mirror for a bit. He was not sure he was up to the task ahead. How the hell could he just talk Hermione back into consciousness again? After Malfoy Manor it had felt natural somehow to just will her back to life. But maybe it was because he was terrified the cruciatus would have her like Neville's parents that he couldn't consider even thinking about it. But this, physically she was ok. This wasn't a curse. This was her hiding in fear and panic somehow. And he wasn't sure that simply talking would really work.

Leaning against the cold tile, his mind flashed back to those first days at The Burrow after Fred's funeral. Then he could at least cook to feel useful. But now what could he do? All he could do was keep trying to make her feel safe and loved. He splashed more water on his face and headed back to the room. After getting some breakfast delivered to the room by one of the hospital workers, he felt a bit renewed and ready to try again.

He crawled back into the bed, spooning up behind her, simply holding her to him. After while he nuzzled into her neck and started talking again, telling her of their adventures on the run, of how brilliant she had been to figure out the clues. He cried telling her about the locket, and apologized again. He spoke of how amazing she had been to forgive him. He reminded her of some of the nicer nights on the hunt when they would both stay up late and look at the millions of stars in the crisp winter sky. He cried again telling her about how brave she had been at Malfoy Manor, and how terrified he'd been arriving at Shell Cottage. Then he pulled himself together and started talking to her in stronger tone.

"Hermione, this is not like that time. You are safe now. There is no battle ahead of us. I know it is scary to think of coming back and dealing with everything, but we are at the easy part now. You need to wake up. I am here for you, but I need you too. I don't work without you. For the life of me, I have never figured out why you chose me, but you did. And I need you! Please wake up. Please come back to me. I love you so much. Please, come back and tell me you love me again."

Feeling frustrated, he stood up and paced the room for a few minutes. As he paced, he told her about how their love had developed over that summer. How they had learned and explored each other; about their surprise dates. Then he talked about Australia, and how amazing it had been. He told her of their trip to Uluru and how healing it had been. He assured her he would take her there that same day if he thought it would help. Then he smiled as he told her of their trip to the Barrier Reef and how they had made love for the first time. He told her how lucky he was to have her and how if she would come back to him he would spend every day loving her.

At this he crawled back into bed. He surrounded her with his arms and held her close. Again and again he whispered, "I love you Hermione. You are safe. Come back to me."

As he repeated this mantra, he held her tight, engulfing her tiny hands in his. And then, after he felt he had been whispering this forever, he felt the tiniest squeeze of his hand.

"Hermione?!" he whispered. "Hermione, love, can you hear me?"

He felt another squeeze in his hand, and he held her tighter.

"Oh, Hermione. It's over. You're safe. They are gone. Forever. I love you so much. It's ok now. We're going to be ok."

He held her and gently rubbed her back, stroked her hair and lightly kissed her forehead.

"Can I turn you so I can see your face, love?" he asked.

She nodded, and he gently turned her so they were lying in bed facing each other, her eyes slowly opening. He smiled, though with glassy eyes as he saw her face. She wasn't crying, and seemed to stare back at him with unfocused, dazed eyes. But all Ron saw was that she was coming back.

"I've missed you," he said as he kissed her gently.

She kissed him back softly and gave a small smile.

"Is anything hurting? Do you need any pain potion?"

She shook her head no but looked like she was more or less asleep as she responded to his question.

"Good," he smiled. "Good. Healer Helen was here. She's been taking great care of you – of both of us really. She said it would be a little while before you would feel strong and talking again. But, she thinks you will be ok with time. She said we needed to spend some time here to get you to feel safe again."

Hermione nodded timidly.

"That's ok. Greyback's gone, Hermione. I killed him. And LeStrange is in Azkaban. They are never going to hurt you - or any of us – again."

Ron wasn't sure how she would respond and watched closely as one corner of her mouth tipped up. It was almost a smile, even if a dazed one. But then Hermione clearly inched closer to Ron and began burrowing back into his chest.

He smiled and tightened his arms around her, enveloping her in his body. "I went mad without you, Hermione. I had to find you. No one can ever keep you from me, you know?"

She nodded again, crying a little now.

"But it is ok. We're ok. Harry's ok. George is ok. Rocks is even here – he came to help!"

She leaned back and looked at him quizzically with more focused though confused eyes.

"We had to figure out how to track your hairclip to a more specific place. Rocks came and helped us crack it. I think he felt like he was back in his glory days a bit, you know?"

Hermione smiled, this time more surely.

"I didn't – I hope you won't get too mad – I didn't call your parents yesterday. I told Healer Helen I would call them today, hoping you would be awake so I could keep them from freaking out, you know?"

She smiled again.

"Are you thirsty at all? I can get some tea if you want some."

She shook her head no, and curled into Ron contentedly. He smiled. This was his Hermione. They would be ok. She would start talking when she was ready. And, if history was any predictor, she would be talking his ear off about obscure facts in no time. He kissed the top of her head again and settled in to hold her as long as she wanted.

Later that day he called the Grangers on Hermione's cell phone. They had of course been horrified to hear what had happened and wanted to come back to England immediately. But, Hermione shook her head a vehement no. Ron tried to encourage them to wait, to finish out their terms teaching and come as scheduled in a few weeks. He tried to explain that she was still not speaking but was doing much better. Eventually Ron had them speak with her on speaker phone so he could tell them her responses. So, they told her they loved her, and Ron was able to say she smiled in response. He was almost happy Hermione had had a panic attack in Australia with her mum so that they had a frame of reference in which to understand Hermione's silence. They thanked him profusely for taking care of her, and Ron promised to call at least once a day and more often if things changed.

Hermione and Ron spent the whole day together with Ron only occasionally popping out to get food or let George know how they were doing. She spent most of the day either asleep or silently curled up in Ron's arms. He continued to read to her, and he continued to tell her stories of their adventures together. But, by the end of the day she still had not spoken. Ron was growing discouraged as he had hoped that once she woke up she would be back to herself rather quickly. Healer Helen had assured him that she was reacting as she had anticipated, and that her mind was still slowly recovering from the shock and psychological trauma. But, that didn't help Ron feel less anxious as the silence wore on.

The following morning he awoke before she did. He looked down at how peacefully she slept curled up on him wrapped in his orange Chudley Canons blanket. He didn't think locking them both up in this hospital room was doing either of them any good, and he decided he was going to talk to Healer Helen about getting Hermione discharged that day. He could bring her back for appointments, but he wanted to take her home – whichever home she wanted to go to.

As she stirred he kissed her forehead and she gave him a small smile and contentedly curled back up in his chest. After a few minutes he decided to try and engage her again.

"Good morning, love," he offered. "Did you sleep well?"

She simply nodded.

"Good. Are you hungry at all? For some reason I am famished this morning."

As if on cue his stomach growled, and she chuckled and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, clearly I am going to need to find some food. I had an idea, but I wanted to get your thoughts on it before I did anything. I was thinking that maybe I would talk to Healer Helen and see if maybe they would discharge you today. I know you aren't exactly back to yourself yet, but how can anybody get back to themselves locked up in a hospital room, you know?"

Hermione nodded and looked hopeful.

"OK. Then it's a deal. I am going to get up, find something that resembles breakfast food and talk Healer Helen into letting us out of here. Then I'll take you home – or – well, anywhere you want to go honestly."

She smiled again, he kissed her forehead and was off on his mission. A short while later he returned with tea, bacon sandwiches and a big grin.

"Healer Helen said we are good to go in about an hour. She wants to come in and check on you one more time and then we can head out. But, she made me promise that we'll check in with her each day. She said she'll come see you if need be, but thought the plan to get out of here was a good one. But, I have another question for you. Where do you want to go?"

He asked that as he handed her tea and a sandwich. He decided to take a bite of his own to give her some time to possibly answer the question.

She looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, and then gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. One he'd swallowed, he offered some options.

"We could go back to your parents' home. Or The Burrow. Or Shell Cottage? Or even Grimmauld Place if you could put up with Kreacher."

She crinkled her nose and shook her head at that choice.

"Ok – good. I wasn't ready to live in a construction zone anyway. Maybe give me one finger for your parents' house, two fingers for The Burrow and three for Shell Cottage."

With a smile and a relieved sigh she lifted one finger.

A few hours later, the two came through the floo into her parents' living room. He watched her take a deep breath as they came into the sunny room. He had their bag from the hospital and threw it on the carpet next to the fireplace.

"I'm going to floo call Mum and owl Harry to let them know we are here but still want to have some time alone, yeah?" She nodded in agreement. "Good. You know Mum's busting buttons not being able to help right now, so maybe I could suggest she cook something and I can come pick it up through the floo later."

Hermione nodded and chuckled lightly.

"So – do you want to rest a bit or maybe take a bath?"

Her eyes lit up at the suggestion.

"Yeah," he agreed, "It's hard to spend that much time in a hospital and not feel grimy."

She smiled and went to walk up the stairs.

"Are you ok to shower on your own? Do you need help? Not trying to come onto you right now – just trying to make sure you don't slip in the shower or anything."

She shook her head but he thought there was a hint of a smile in her eyes.

"Ok – well – how about you let me help you upstairs and then I'll draw up the bath."

She nodded again, and they headed up the stairs. Ron had soon drawn the bath and added the scented bath soap he knew she liked. He made sure to apply a warming charm so it would stay a soothing temperature.

Once she was settled in the bath, he let her know he was going to take a quick shower in her parents' bathroom to get rid of the hospital feel. Once he was clean and changed he checked on her again, and she looked content to stay in there for a long while. He assured her he would be down in the kitchen and would come back up and check on her every so often.

Once he entered the kitchen he put the kettle on and sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. And as he sat he was suddenly aware of how utterly exhausted he was. Crossing his arms on the kitchen table and laying his head over them, he closed his eyes for a moment and realized it was the first time since Hermione had been taken days ago that he had a moment alone to collect his thoughts. His brain couldn't even think back to the terror of not knowing where she was or the agony of realizing who had taken her. So, he let his thoughts swirl around the time since he'd been with her at St. Mungo's.

She was doing better. He knew that – obviously interacting is better than nothing, even if she still wasn't talking. He wasn't sure why it was so exhausting to be with her when she didn't talk. Aside from the fact that it was upsetting because it was so different than normal when she was constantly rattling off random history lectures, it was just hard to be the one who was "on" all the time. He was usually a positive person, but it was incredibly draining to be the positive one and do all the talking while spending 24 hours a day with someone in this state. It wasn't like he could just pretend everything was normal when it clearly wasn't. But he wanted to be the positive strong one for her to lean on, so he couldn't let her see how much it was draining him both physically and emotionally.

But, coming home, he was sure, was the right move. She could rest in the bath. He could cook something – or better yet have his mum cook something. They wouldn't just be in the bed all day but could read on the sofa or something. Maybe he could even take her on a short walk somewhere once she was a little stronger. But, he just had no sense of how long he needed to be prepared for her to stay this way. At what point would he allow himself to worry? Healer Helen had said she would come by and check on them, but he didn't really know if she thought Hermione would be talking by then. He decided he wouldn't give himself a deadline, but would ask Healer Helen when they saw her next. Until then, he would try to just to take it one step at a time.

He had wondered if she would want to spend some time by herself, but once she was out of the bath, she clearly didn't want to have Ron out of her line of sight at all. They had a nice supper courtesy of his Mum and watched some muggle movie on the tele before turning in for the night.

Ron slept well and woke in the morning to find Hermione sitting up in bed watching him sleep.

He smiled at her and said, "Good morning. Guess things are getting back to normal then if you are up before me."

She smiled, then swallowed hard and with great concentration managed to whisper, "Thank you for bringing me home."

"Hermione! Oh, Hermione – it's bloody brilliant to hear your voice again," he exclaimed bolting up in the bed and engulfing her in his arms. Before he knew it, he realized he was crying in relief. He knew she could tell he was now sobbing into her hair, and she simply stroked his hair and his back. She just kept repeating, "shhh, shhhh," but he felt the tears continue to flow.

After a few minutes his breathing had calmed down, and he pulled back from her wiping his face. She reached her thumb up and wiped a few remaining tears from his cheek. He gave her a watery smile as she caught his eye.

"Sorry 'bout that. Who knew I could still cry like a little girl, huh? I've just missed you – your voice. I – well – it's just fantastic to hear you speak, Hermione. I love you so much."

"I love you, Ron. Thank you – for everything," she said so quietly he could barely hear it.

"You were kidnapped, Hermione. And I couldn't get to you for days – I definitely don't deserve a thank you! I am so sorry. I am so sorry that this all happened."

She just shook her head. "Not your fault. You saved me. Again. In so many ways."

She sighed as she nuzzled into his chest. He closed his eyes and held her close. With the rhythm of his breath in an out he just kept repeating in his head "thank you thank you thank you." His Hermione was coming back.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

He supposed it was like taking off on a broom. You had to kick off with some force, but it took a bit to gain both altitude and speed. Only once you had achieved the cruising height and cruising speed could you easily maneuver. Hermione beginning to speak again was the same. That first couple of hours it was as if each word took a lot of energy and focus to get out of her mouth. Even a few days later, while the words flowed easier, there was not nearly the usual volume of words that she normally would speak. She wasn't silent, but she was still quiet.

The day after she had started speaking again, he had floo called George to see if he wanted Ron to come in the following day. George told him that if he dared to step foot in the shop in the next two weeks he would be fired on the spot. Professor McGonagall had sent an owl that let Hermione know she was not to return until after the Christmas holidays. The next day an owl brought her NEWT results. All Os. Hermione was the only one who was surprised.

While they had found their way back to a routine, Ron knew they weren't back on solid ground yet. And he was pretty sure Hermione knew it too. She was still very anxious. Other than the loo, she didn't want to be away from Ron. While she had left the house for a couple of walks in the neighborhood with Ron, she had yet to be among a group of people. Noise and chaos seemed to make everything worse. He couldn't even imagine her being able to handle dinner at The Burrow, let alone returning to school. But, she had come so far, and he tried to stay optimistic that she would continue to get better.

And, while she was improving, everything still felt off. Nothing was normal. Nothing was as it should be, and it all combined to be a giant reminder of the fragile state they both now found themselves in.

And, despite being together practically 24 hours a day, they had not picked up where they had left off from a romantic or physical aspect either. Hermione was clinging to Ron as her protector, but not as her lover. He didn't want to push her at all, and felt a little guilty even thinking of it. While he knew Healer Helen had said she had not been sexually assaulted, he didn't know what _had_ happened. And he couldn't quite bring himself to ask her either. Actually, he hadn't asked her about any of it. Not the kidnapping. Not the dungeons. Not the rescue. Not the hospital. Nothing. And she hadn't offered.

It was easy to become unsure of himself again. To slip back into the world of self-doubt. While he was confident in his ability to love Hermione, he was rather confident it wasn't enough. Patience and love he could offer. Be he was starting to think Hermione needed more.

Ron was relieved when an owl arrived from Healer Helen asking if she could pop by that afternoon. While not sure what to expect from the visit, he felt like at least she could help him feel less frustrated by the situation even if she didn't change Hermione's progress.

"So good to see you both looking so much better," Healer Helen said as she dusted the soot off from the floo.

Hermione smiled at her as Ron offered her some tea. Ron and Healer Helen shared small talk over tea and biscuits while Hermione, though quiet, followed the conversation through smiles and nods.

Putting down her tea cup, Healer Helen said, "Hermione, would you prefer that I talk with you alone or have Ron stay with us as we talk?"

Hermione just slinked up to Ron, holding his arm firmly.

"Are you sure," asked Ron. "I am more than happy to step out to the kitchen and leave you two some privacy. I can even stay where you can see me if that makes you more comfortable, love."

"Please stay," she whispered.

"Ok. Great to hear you voice what's important to you, Hermione. Ron will stay then. First I just want to check that your injuries have continued to heal well. Can I use my wand for an exam real quick?"

Hermione nodded, and soon the healer had moved her wand over her head to toe. Smiling, the woman said, "Looks like all of the broken bones and contusions have healed really well. That is great news."

Ron smiled, finding himself relieved despite the fact he had suspected as much. Hermione didn't seem to be suffering from physical pain as much as the emotional pain of anxiety and fear.

"The other good news is that it seems you have been able to put on almost ten pounds since I saw you this summer. That is fantastic! I know that was not an easy task, so you should feel so proud of yourself! Great job."

Hermione was smiling while Ron found himself surprisingly teary eyed in relief. While he had tried to make sure Hermione was eating right all fall, the events of the past fortnight had pushed that problem to the back of his mind. He hoped that the stress of this event wouldn't cause her to slip back into her old habits. He knew she was looking stronger, but to hear she had gained ten pounds while studying that much made his heart burst with pride and affection for his witch.

"So, that brings us to the other areas where you are still healing, right?"

Hermione just nodded while Ron held her hand.

"Ron said in his owl the other day that you were speaking a lot more, but not quite back to yourself yet. Would you say that is a fair assessment?"

"Yes," squeaked Hermione.

"Good. I am glad to hear you are continuing to get better. Can you describe how you feel Hermione?"

Ron looked at her, but she suddenly looked blank. It almost reminded him of how she would look early on in their years at Hogwarts when a teacher dared ask a question she didn't know the answer to. The healer let them sit in the silence for a few moments, and then finally Hermione finally whispered, "I feel scared. And scared to feel scared again."

Ron closed his eyes and held her hand tighter. Healer Helen nodded. "That is a really insightful way to explain it, Hermione. And I would guess that the fear you feel has a physical feeling – maybe in your chest or your stomach too?"

Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, you have been through more in the past year than most people endure in their entire lives. Both of you, really. I don't think it would be possible to get through this without having to grapple with the anxiety, fear and other emotions that all of this stirs up. You may remember me mentioning last summer that I am not an expert in treating anxiety. But, I would really like you to see the woman I mentioned before – she is a squib but has been trained in both Mind Healing and muggle psychology. I think she can really be helpful."

Hermione simply looked down at her lap. The healer caught Ron's eye, and he nodded his head.

Turning to Hermione gently he said, "Hermione, love – I think we need to call her. It sounds like she could help – maybe help both of us. You've done so well over the past few weeks, but we can't just stay holed up in your parents' house forever. They'll be back from Australia in just a few weeks. At some point you need to get back to your studies and I need to get back to work. Maybe this woman can help us get there."

Hermione took a ragged breath, letting it out slowly. "Ok," she finally said. "Let's see if she can help."

He hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Hermione. I know it's not easy, but I really think this is the right step. Thank you for continuing to be so brave in all of this."

With her head in the crook of his neck, she simply nodded and he knew she was trying not to cry. He rubbed her back slowly as he turned back to Healer Helen.

"Can you contact her for us or do I need to send an owl?" Ron asked quietly.

"I can talk to her today."

"That would be great," Ron agreed, still comforting Hermione.

"The first steps are the hardest, but believe me when I say things will get better. They will. It will take work, but they will get better."

Ron took a deep breath, nodded and replied, "Thank you so much. Really – you have been wonderful to both of us. Thanks."

The woman stood as she smiled back at Ron. "It is my pleasure. Honestly – you two have sacrificed so much for all of us. This is the least I can do to thank you. You two stay there – I can make it to the floo on my own."

Ron gave her a grateful smile as she stepped into the fireplace. Then, as the green flames erupted, she was gone, and the two were once again alone.

They spent the next hour curled up on the sofa together, not saying anything. Hermione wasn't crying anymore, but didn't seem ready to let go of Ron. Finally, Ron broke the silence.

"Hermione – I know we haven't really talked about what happened. Do, do you want to? I don't want to push you, but I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it just the two of us or with the healer woman. I just want you to know you can, you know?"

For a few minutes she didn't say anything, and Ron was wondering if she had actually fallen asleep. Then he heard a small voice.

"Every time I think I have gotten through the worst thing that could happen, something else horrible – I mean really horrible - happens. And, then each time I – I – I just can't handle it. I want to run away and hide, but I can't. I am stuck in these awful situations and I have no control at all, so all I can do is hide in my mind. And then, even when I am safe again, I am so terrified that it will happen again. And so I just shut down, you know?"

Ron just kept listening and drawing gentle circles on her back as she spoke, so she kept talking.

"I think about who I was before all of this. That bossy, smart girl who was so in control. I mean – I handled things, right? I look back to that summer after Dumbledore died...I knew what I had to do. I researched the hell out of it, and then I made a plan. It was scary and awful, but I did it. I handled it. I was in control. But then everything went pear shaped, you know? And then – I mean twice! Twice I have been carted off by , by, by..." At this she started sobbing hysterically, and Ron held her closer.

"Hermione, love. I am so sorry. I couldn't protect you. I couldn't stop them either fucking time. I am so sorry," and now he was sobbing as well.

She started shaking her head through the sobs. "NO RON!" she responded. "There was nothing you could do in either of those situations. And if you hadn't been so amazing, I would have died both times – not just died - but died in horrible ways! So don't you DARE blame yourself. What upsets me – what I don't understand – is how that girl from a year and a half ago who could erase herself from her own parents' lives - how did she get so fragile? I survived all those horrible things. Some didn't – Fred didn't; Professor Lupin didn't; Tonks didn't; Colin didn't. Professor Dumbledore didn't. But I did! I lived! I survived the whole bloody war and now I can hardly leave the damn house or be in a room without you! What the hell? Where did she go? I mean I thought I survived this war, but – but it doesn't always feel like that. It feels like she died too. But if she's gone – then who the hell am I?"

"Oh, Hermione," Ron sniffed as he held her tight.

He just held her as she sobbed into his chest.

"You, Hermione, are the most amazing witch I know. You are kind and brilliant and gorgeous and brave. And I would be lost without you. War changes people – it has changed all of us in different ways, I suppose – ways we are still discovering. And then – don't forget – we were 17 when we set out on that horcrux hunt. 17! No one stays who they are as teenagers. I reckon everyone grows up and changes somehow. We've just had the particular pleasure of doing them both at the same time. You know – while evil maniacs tried to kill us. It's a bloody miracle we're both still upright!"

She gave a sarcastic laugh. "Not sure how upright I actually am, Ron."

"Give yourself some credit, Hermione. You've come so far! But, really – even if there had never been a war, we both would have grown up and changed some, don't you think? I mean – really, thank heaven I have or we'd both still be in a heap of trouble with how stupid I was just a few years back."

This made her giggle, which made Ron laugh as well.

"I guess I wouldn't be still knitting hats to trick house elves into freedom even if there hadn't been a war," she admitted. "So, I'll give you that age helps soften our edges some. But, I guess I would have thought I would still be brave..." she added quietly as her voice trailed off.

"You are still brave! Holy shit Hermione, you have survived more cruicios than anyone. Ever. EVER! In the history of magic! And not only did you survive AND maintain your sanity – you didn't break or reveal a single fucking thing about our mission. We would have been sunk. Right then. Voldemort wins. End of story. But you kept going. If that isn't bravery, then I don't know what is. Bravery isn't not being scared. It's going on anyway."

"But how do I figure out how to go on now? I can barely go to the loo by myself."

"Reckon we do what we've always done. Books and cleverness, right? We track down every book ever written on the subject. You use that brilliant brain of yours to figure things out. We talk to people who know more than we do and lean on our resources. And – I keep reminding you to eat and sleep. Meanwhile, we keep living. Even during fifth and sixth year when the war was clearly brewing, life went on, right? We worried about quidditch, did our homework, the twins started their shop. So – we keep going. I'll sell trick wands. You figure out how to save the world. And then we'll meet up for curry in the evenings. Sounds brilliants, doesn't it?" he winked.

She couldn't help but laugh.

"How do you always make things sound so manageable? You have no idea how amazing that is, do you?"

"Well, I have to bring something to the table, right?" he joked.

"No, I'm serious, Ron. It's amazing. Remember what Dumbledore said that time back – what was it, third year maybe? He said happiness could be found in the darkest times if we just remember to turn on the light. "

"Sounds like a barmy thing he would have said."

She lightly smacked his arm. "No, Ron. It's true. Light will always win over the darkness. A dark room can't make a candle dark, but a candle can make a dark room light. You have an uncanny ability to turn on the light, Ron. I know you think the deluminator was so you have a way back because he thought you would leave us. But I think it was more. He knew you were the only one who could really turn on the light. You still are. Without you, I would be holed up in darkness – trapped in the shell of my mind. You have no idea the power you bring. It's a gift, Ron. You should treasure it as one."

Ron looked at her and was overwhelmed. He knew she believed in him even when he didn't. But, he truly didn't understand what she saw in him. Part of his brain tried to listen to her – and to believe what she was saying. But part of him was terrified to think what would happen when she someday learned she was mistaken.

She watched his reaction carefully as if she could read his mind. "Ron, you seem to think I am right about absolutely every single thing in this world except one. I wish I could get you to understand I am right about you."

He closed his eyes briefly, and quietly responded, "I'm trying, Hermione. It just flies in the fact of everything I've ever believed about myself. But I am trying. I promise."

"I'm glad. You keep trying, and I'll keep reminding you."

The following afternoon they found themselves in a muggle counseling office waiting room. There were magazines cluttered across the side tables, and stiff chairs along the walls. Hermione was fidgeting with her hands while Ron was trying to look comfortable and relaxed despite the fact that he was with the love of his life in a muggle psychologist office.

Eventually Hermione was called. He offered to wait for her, but she insisted he come as well.

"I'm Becky Woodley," the counselor said as she shook both of their hands. "It is so great to meet you both. Helen speaks so highly of both of you – please come back and have a seat on my office and we'll see what we can do, ok?"

She led them back to a nice office where Ron and Hermione sat on the black leather sofa against the wall. Hermione gripped Ron's hand tightly as they watched the woman grab her notebook and muggle pen and sit in the large chair facing them.

"Well then," the woman started, "welcome. As I mentioned, Helen gave me a call and said she thought I might be able to be of some assistance. I think she mentioned that I am a squib - so no need to be shy about the magical world around me. I am a licensed therapist and see muggle patients, but I have also studied as a Mind Healer. Obviously I can't do magic, but I understand the theory and potions that are used. I work with healers at St. Mungos to care for patients if potions or any type of magic is needed. But, mostly I find that the counseling techniques to be the most useful for the vast majority of my patients. Now – you should also know that I am bound by privacy rules overseeing both muggle and magical healers. I may be a squib, but I am more than aware of who you two are and what you have done for my family, for people I love and for the world I grew up in. Heck, you probably saved the muggle patients in the waiting room too and they will never know. But, the only people who know you are here are Helen, myself and anyone you tell. It is extremely important that you feel comfortable saying anything here and know it will be held in the strictest confidence. Do you have any questions on that?"

Hermione and Ron both shook their heads, so she continued.

"OK. So, do you want to tell me what you hope to get out of our time together? Why you wanted to come see me?"

Ron was determined not to speak for Hermione in her counseling session. She looked at him briefly as if asking him to respond, but he simply nodded his head, encouraging her to answer.

After a slow breath, Hermione said, "As you alluded to, the past year has been rather a difficult one. From what I have read about these things, I suppose you would say I have gone through a series of traumas. I seem to be recovering physically from the experiences, but I don't seem to be doing as well psychologically or emotionally."

Hermione looked up, seeming to feel as if she had answered the question, but Becky didn't seem to agree.

"Ok. I understand that is why Helen sent you to me. But what I want to know, Hermione, is what you want to get out of this. Why did _you_ come today?"

Hermione glanced at Ron again nervously, but he simply squeezed her hand in support. After blinking back several tears, she finally said, "I want to feel like myself again. Not very long ago I would have described myself as brave. Now that doesn't seem to fit, and words like anxious, afraid and tired come to mind instead. I am so tired of being anxious all of the time. And I want to believe that if more bad things are to happen that I can be strong enough again that I can handle it so that I can take care of – and get back to – the people I love." With that, she gave Ron's hand a squeeze and he lifted her hand to kiss it gently.

"Now that is a fabulous answer," smiled Becky.

The two left the office an hour later emotionally exhausted but hopeful. While they hadn't talked about things like Malfoy Manor or the recent kidnapping, just telling her about some of the other panic attacks she's had, or about sending her parents away the previous summer was hard to get through with a relative stranger. When they got back to the house, they set a fire in the fireplace and curled up with cups of tea.

Breaking the comfortable silence, Hermione said, "I want to talk about it."

"The session with Becky?"

"No. I want to talk about what happened. What happened when – when I was taken. I know you've been trying not to pry, but it's time."

"Ok – alright. If you are sure."

Hermione nodded, and then took a deep breath. "I was just so happy that morning. The NEWTs were behind me, and you had been so wonderful the night before. I woke up early and was just full of energy. More than I had felt in ages. You looked so peaceful, and I wanted to do something nice for you, you know? You had basically been carrying me through the weeks leading up to my exams. I thought if I could finish your work that morning then we could spend the rest of the day together. So, I turned off your waking alarm, left you that note and headed over to the shop.

"After the standard teasing from George, we got the holiday display changed out. I was going to pop over to the Leaky for some sandwiches to bring back. I was still in such a good mood. George had joked all morning, and I felt so light having the exams behind me. I was sort of giddy walking down Diagon Alley thinking of spending the afternoon with you. I – well – you know since the war I feel like I've always been on guard at all times. But, that morning I just felt happy. I didn't even think about the fact I was by myself. I let my guard down, and I wasn't paying close attention at all. So stupid. I was looking around, and I was watching this woman push her little girl in a pram, and I was distracted. I should have seen him!"

"Oh Hermione, it wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't my fault, but I certainly didn't help things by not paying attention. So – I didn't see it happen. One minute I was watching this woman and baby, and the next thing I know, I can't move my legs, my arms or my mouth. My wand was gone. I felt an arm around me, and then I was instantly disapperated.

"I felt the panic taking over. It was surging up in my throat, and I couldn't breathe. But, I kept trying. I had to focus. So, I started to figure out what I knew. I was clearly in a castle somewhere. There was someone behind me with an arm around me and pulling me along. In my mind I was screaming, but nothing was coming out of my mouth. Finally, I was dragged into a cell. They released the binding charms on me, but my mouth was still sealed somehow. My heart sunk when I saw it was LeStrange. He started laughing at me. He started rambling on about punishing blood traitors, about finishing what Bellatrix had started; about getting revenge for Voldemort's death.

"Then he left. And I was in that dark, awful place all alone. It was so quiet, and so cold. I was curled up in this ball in the cell trying to figure out what I should do. In my mind I was screaming your name. All I could think about was how to get the deluminator to work without my voice. But you couldn't hear me."

"Hermione – you have to know. As soon as I heard you were gone I went mad trying to find you. I tore around Diagon Alley looking for clues. I kept holding the deluminator just willing your voice to come out…"

"I know. And I knew it then. I knew you would do anything you could to find me. I knew it. Ron – you have to know that. I did not doubt for one second that you were trying to find me."

"I'm so sorry…"

"It wasn't your fault. It wasn't. And it wasn't my fault either. It just was. So, I was there alone for a while. Not really sure how long, as there wasn't an outside window so I couldn't tell day from night. I just kept screaming your name in my head. I was worried about you. I knew you would be in a panic, but I knew you would be trying to figure everything out and find me. Then at some point LeStrange came back in, but at this point he brought Greyback with him."

At this point Ron saw several tears stream down her cheek, and he had to repress the nausea that was washing over him. He took her hand and just gently rubbed his thumb over her fingers waiting for her to be able to continue.

"I just felt sick even seeing him, you know?" she said tearfully.

Ron nodded, tearing up himself.

"It was – arggh, instantly his smell hit me and it was Malfoy Manor all over again, but this time I was all alone. Greyback, he came into the cell and sort of backed me into the corner. I was just so scared, Ron. I knew what he'd said before. And all I could think was that he was – he was – he was going to rape me and then kill me. And I knew you couldn't get there this time. I was paralyzed with the fear. I think even if my mouth hadn't been charmed shut I wouldn't have been able to make a sound. I was just frozen."

Ron was openly crying at this point, hearing his worst nightmare playing out. He finally covered his mouth with one hand to remind himself not to wretch but to let her finish talking – to get it out – to purge the memory.

"He started touching me. Like he did at Malfoy Manor. His face right up to mine. God, Ron, that smell. I don't think I will ever get the smell of him out of my memory. It is the rotting, foul smell that somehow mixed with that metallic taste of the adrenaline in my mouth. Just – arrggghh," she said shaking her head as if trying to shake it off of her.

"He started talking. Jeering really. Telling me all of the horrible things he was going to do to me. And dragging his hands over me as he talked. He ripped my shirt some with his claws, and then he was pulling up my shirt and scratching his disgusting nails against my skin. I couldn't even breathe. I don't think I exhaled the whole time he was there. And – well - and I think it freaked him out a bit. He kept taunting me waiting for a reaction, but I am not sure I even swallowed or blinked or twitched at all. It was like I became a statue or something. And it was as if it was taking the fun out of it for him. I think he got off on the reaction from his victims– the fear of his power – more than anything else. Finally he backed up and spat at me in the face, but I didn't flinch then either. He said he would wait until he had more of my friends around to watch him finally 'have' me. That it would be much more enjoyable for him with you screaming in the background. And then they left. And I was plunged back into the silent darkness. Once I heard them bolt the door and head back up those stairs I wiped his spit off of me.

"I was just terrified. From head to toe. I could hardly catch my breath. And I know I was hyperventilating, but I couldn't open my mouth to take deep breaths, and I was worried I would pass out. And I was worried I would throw up and choke on it, but eventually I calmed down a bit. I kept trying to think of something I could do. Anything to give me some control. But I couldn't think of one bloody thing. I mean, I was going quite mental. I thought about crazy things, like unlacing my shoes and trying to dig out the grout with a shoe lace. Or, trying to take the shredded parts of my shirt to weave a rope or something. Cleary not helpful plans. But I needed something to feel like I was trying.

"Eventually they came back. Unconsciously I just froze again. I guess my brain reasoned it had worked last time. Like playing dead – you know? I think those two were like animals who only eat live prey. Who knows? I've spent a lot of time trying to figure that out. Maybe Becky can help me on that. Anyway, I froze again. Greyback didn't do much then as he seemed to get off on the fight, and the terror he could cause in people, but I didn't react at all. Not even sure I blinked. But LeStrange was just angry. He kept ranting about how he knew he could break me even if his wife couldn't. I was so scared he would start torturing me the way Bellatrix had. But he didn't. Well. He did – but not with his wand. He started hitting and kicking me. Throwing me against the wall. But, I didn't really react. I just remained frozen. All I could control was how I reacted, you know? So I didn't move. I didn't protect myself. I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. Nothing. Then they left, and they would come back and just do it again. It was this ridiculous cycle. So, I got to the point where I just willed myself to black out when I heard them arrive so I wouldn't feel the beatings. I know that wasn't smart – I mean, that's what I started to do at Malfoy Manor too, but hearing you scream my name was all that kept bringing me back. But it was just too painful, Ron. I couldn't do it. I couldn't take it anymore. So, the last thing I remember is hearing the sound of two people coming towards the cell. I blacked out almost instantly. Then – eventually I woke up, and you were there. I have no idea what happened in between. And honestly when I saw you I didn't believe you were real – that I was really somewhere safe with you. It felt like if I tried to talk I would realize my mouth was still sealed and then I would know it was just a dream. I reasoned that if I started talking again I would break the spell and wake up and find myself back there again. And, I just wanted to stay with you in the dream. But, you kept at it, and at some point I realized it was real. And I was safe. But, I am so messed up, Ron. And I am so sorry you are the one who has to pick up the pieces yet again."

"Oh Hermione. I love you so much," he said as he brushed tears from her cheek. "I am so, so sorry these things have happened. I know it isn't really my fault; But, I am sorry that it happened. Sorry that we have this life where this shit seems attracted to us, you know? You deserve so much better. But, despite that, this seems to be our life. So, all I can do is promise you I will always be here. And I will be here no matter what. I will always find you, Hermione. Sometimes it may take longer than either of us want, but I will always find my way to you."

"I need you to fill in the missing pieces for me, Ron. I know you talked some when we were still at St. Mungo's, but I don't think I caught it all. How did you find me? What happened?"

"Well, I woke up and found your note about you going to the shop. So, I ate breakfast and cleaned up a bit and decided to head over. Believe me when I tell you I have beat myself up a million ways thinking 'what if I had not slept so late' or 'what if I had skipped the shower' could I have gotten there before you left to get the sandwiches. But, I know that is a worthless exercise. So, I got to shop and found George by himself. He said you'd gone to get lunch and he expected you back any minute. We were chatting there when this little boy came in saying someone had told him to come in and give this note to the red head who worked in the joke shop. George took it, and immediately gave it to me. It said he'd taken you, and I immediately ran out the door trying to find you. I was mad- just crazy as I looked everywhere for you. I obviously couldn't find you and eventually came back to the shop. By then George had called the aurors, and they had people working on it."

"What did the note say?"

"I don't remember the exact words, but basically it said he didn't get enough time with you at Malfoy Manor and wanted to make up for it so he had taken you; and that he would trade you for Harry. He said he would contact us the next day to let us know more details."

"So Harry came?"

"No, Kinglsey said he wanted to have a plan before he called Harry, which at the time made sense since he was still in training. So, they started talking all this nonsense about not knowing where they could have taken you and basically it seemed their plan was to wait for a day. You can imagine how I reacted to that plan."

"I would have expected nothing less."

"Anyway, I was more than a little worked up and not thinking too clearly. I may have actually chewed out both Kingsley and the aurors and told them all they owed you their lives and they should all be ashamed or something else equally endearing. George eventually poured some Firewhisky down my throat to calm me down and told me to get my head in the game. So, we did. We went through everything we knew, which wasn't much. Finally we stumbled upon the hairclip. And using the charmed parchment we discovered you were in Northumberland."

"Northumberland? Where in Northumberland?"

"Ahh. Well. That was the problem. We told the aurors what we had, and while I was ready to go search through every building in northeast England, the aurors weren't quite as excited. They wanted to wait until we heard something. I was beyond enraged. But, at that point, George drugged me with some dreamless sleep I think. Because the next thing I knew I was waking up in his flat and the whole family was there. Harry too. I kept trying to think about what you would have told us to do. So, I sent Harry and Gin off to Flourish and Blotts to get books on Northumberland."

Hermione laughed at this.

"So, at some point I had this idea that we should work on the charm on the paper. I figured if the hairclip knew where you were, we just had to get the paper to tell us more precisely. So George and Bill kept working on it. They had all these highly elaborate approaches to it – that all failed miserably, by the way. Then the owl arrived saying they wanted Harry, alone in some warehouse in Newcastle Upon Tyne. The aurors were all happy as it matched the Northumberland tip. But, it just didn't add up. There was no way he would just trade you back for Harry. It didn't make any sense. Harry was all for it, and was going to go. The note had said for me to stay at the store, which I wanted to do anyway as it was a shite plan. While the aurors were still putting their plan together I lost my shite on George and Bill. I told them they were overcomplicating things. If the Marauders could make that map in their early years, we could figure this out. Then we got Rocks to come and help. And, eventually they figured it out. And suddenly I knew the exact castle you were in. And, like I thought – it was nowhere near the warehouse in Newcastle the aurors were at. It was about 30 minutes before Harry was supposed to meet LeStrange, so I figured it was a good time to sneak in when they were out."

"Who was we?"

"Me and George."

"Just the two of you?"

"Well, yeah. We each had a wand and just went for it."

"Oh, Ron."

"Anyway, we got to the castle and found you, but you were unconscious in the cell. I guess you heard us coming and blacked out thinking we were those bastards back to torture you again."

She simply nodded.

"I tried to wake you, but obviously that didn't work. We heard a pop with someone else apperating in, and I forced George to take you to St. Mungos. He wasn't happy with me, but he took you anyway."

"You were there ALONE? It's just like the bloody chess match all over again!"

"Well – yeah I was alone, but I wasn't sacrificing myself. You were safe, and I had to end it or we would just end up in the same place again. So, Greyback comes around the corner. He didn't see me. And…well, I don't know what you'll think about this, but I just killed him. Didn't even give him a chance to fight back. I know that is unforgiveable, but he was horrible and had to go, and given the chance to do it over, I would do the exact same thing. I have no regrets at all about that decision. I hope that doesn't make you think less of me," he said worriedly.

"I'm not mad, Ron. I'm proud of you. Usually I am a fan of courts and formal justice, but you were right. The world is better without him. What did the aurors say?"

"I'm not sure they really know. They just assumed it was in a duel, and I never corrected them. Didn't have much time to think about it then, as I immediately heard a second pop. I looked up expecting LeStrange, which it was, but unfortunately he had a bound and gagged Harry in tow. He'd lost his glasses too, so he was blind as a bat. I knew if I sent a curse at LeStarnge, he'd throw Harry as a shield. And Harry couldn't see to duck. Anyway – we had a few words and eventually Harry yanked his robes, throwing LeStrange off balance. I bound and disarmed him instantly, and then we called the aurors come clean it up and take him to Azkaban. Then I came to St. Mungo's and well – I guess we've been pretty much been inseparable ever since."

Hermione was smiling through tears at this point. "There was a part of me that knew you would come, even if I couldn't figure out how you possibly could."

They sat there in the silence for a while. Hermione was nuzzled up to him, her left leg sort of curled around him, and she was drawing little circles on his chest as they watched the flames in the fireplace. Ron was struggling. If it had been a month ago, he would have kissed her deeply and probably shagged her right there in her parents' living room. But it wasn't a month ago. It was today. And she had just told him how Greyback had groped her and told her he would rape her while forcing Ron to watch. And he was feeling like a rotten sod for wanting to snog her. He could feel himself getting snug in the trousers, and really didn't want to screw up this moment. So, he coughed a bit and mumbled something about needing to put dinner on.

He didn't look her in the eye as he walked to the kitchen, but he could see her in his peripheral vision looking hurt as he walked away. He felt like such a git. He should have gotten up sooner before his arousal was so obvious. She must think he was a jerk.

He boiled some potatoes and pulled out some leftover roast that his Mum had sent them. They ate in silence – not the comfortable silence they had become used to, but an awkward, stilted silence. Ron was cursing himself for screwing everything up. Hermione got up and took her dishes into the kitchen and announced she was going to take a shower. Once she'd left the kitchen Ron was so mad at himself that he slammed a plate down onto the counters. Accidentally breaking it, he cursed himself more and repaired the broken dish. He cleaned the kitchen and flipped on the tele. He hoped Hermione would be asleep by the time he went up to bed and that they could just start fresh in the morning.

He cracked his eyes open and saw the television flickering. He wasn't quite sure if he'd dozed for long on the sofa, but he figured it had to have been long enough for Hermione to have fallen asleep. He flipped off the tele and made his way up the stairs.

He quietly crept into the bedroom, slipping off his jeans and jumper as he crawled under the covers being careful not to disturb Hermione.

As he tried to fall asleep he heard her small voice, "If I'd known you wouldn't want to touch me after you learned Greyback had groped me, I wouldn't have told you."

He bolted straight up in bed. "WHAT?"

"You heard me."

"Hermione – is that what you thought? Really?"

She rolled over in the bed facing away from him, but he could hear her crying.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," he said as he leapt up and dashed over to the floor on her side of the bed so he could look her in the eyes. "Hermione – you have it all wrong. Holy shit, Hermione. It's the exact opposite. I didn't want to push you. I thought you could tell."

"Tell what, Ron? That you think I'm damaged goods or something? That you don't want his leftovers?" she spat out.

"Hell no! You're no such thing. On the couch tonight, I thought – I thought you could, you know – feel exactly how much I wanted to be with you. I tried to get to the kitchen before my stiffy made you uncomfortable, but I assumed you felt it and were mad at me for ruining the moment."

"No, Ron! I didn't feel anything. I thought you were disgusted by me and had to get out of there."

"Are you mad? Hermione, I love you. And believe me, disgust is not the word. You do something to me. My body just reacts to you like you're some sort of veela or something. Has since – well – forever I suppose. But I didn't know what to do! You had just told me how that bastard had his hands all over you. I thought you probably didn't want anyone's hands on you. I didn't want you to think I was some sort of a perv for wanting to snog you after you just finished telling me all the horrible things that had happened to you. I can't believe how badly I have fucked this up. I am so sorry. What can I do, love? How can I make this right?"

"You are really still attracted to me?"

He looked at her for a brief moment and kissed her deeply.

"You barmy witch - you should never, ever doubt that again," he said in a suddenly husky voice. His hand hadn't left her cheek, and he continued to stare into her still wet eyes. She looked at him and kissed him again, slowly and tenderly as her hand slipped around his neck.

"I've missed this, Ron."

"Oh God, Hermione, so have I," he growled as he crawled over her onto the bed, maintaining their connection.

He still wasn't sure how far he should push things, but Hermione quickly put him at ease as she pulled off her vest. Holding his eye contact, she picked up his hands and placed them over her breasts.

"You are the only one who gets to have me. No one else. Only you."

"Are you sure you're ready, love?"

"So ready, Ron. I need to not just know we're still ok. I need to feel it too."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Ron awoke the next morning to Hermione curled around him still naked from the night before. He thought back to the previous evening and how close they came to unintentionally hurting each other through a simple misunderstanding. It was strange how their love felt so strong and yet so vulnerable at the same time. As he felt her stir, he was so thankful that they'd figured out the mistake and found their way back to each other yet again.

She opened her eyes to see him smiling back at her, which was followed closely by a tender kiss.

"Good morning," she said.

"It is a good morning," he replied.

"Why? Because we are both naked?"

"Well, that is always a promising start," he quipped. "But, not actually what I meant."

"What then?"

"I don't know. I just feel lighter than I have in a long time. I don't know if it was figuring out everything last night, or the time with Becky or what. Things just seem better somehow."

"Hmmm," she said slowly tracing the old winding scars on his bare arms. "I think I have to agree with you."

"You know," Ron said, "we should do something different today. Something that has nothing to do with recovering, or studying or working or talking about heavy subjects. Just something fun."

"What do you have in mind?"

"OK – so maybe I don't actually have a fully thought out plan at this exact moment," he laughed, kissing her forehead. "Let's go make breakfast and see what evolves, alright?"

Soon they were sitting in the kitchen finishing up their breakfast and debating ideas of what to do. Hermione didn't want to go anywhere with a crowd quite yet. Ron wanted to do something outside if possible, but it was a grey, rainy day in London.

Hermione then looked up and laughed, "Well are you a wizard or what?" she teased. And soon they scanned the tele for the muggle weather projections to discover where in England had the best weather that day. They were both quite surprised when it looked as if Cumbria was to be their destination for their outing. After dressing for warmth and packing a few extra layers in Hermione's beaded bag, they disapperated to Grasmere.

"Have you spent much time here before?" she asked.

"No – can't say that I've been up here. Have you?"

"Well, I came when I was a little girl to visit Beatrix Potter's house."

"Huh? The Potters? You didn't know Harry then."

Hermione laughed, "Not that Potter! No – Beatrix Potter was a very famous muggle children's book author. She wrote the fabulous little stories about all of the animals all around the Lake District. Her most famous character was Peter Rabbit – a lot like Babbity Rabbit, actually. She did all of the illustrations for her books and they were these gorgeous drawings. I think it makes everyone think the Lake District is so gorgeous. But, when I was here it was very cold and very wet."

"Hmm. Well, today is cold, but it is sunny!"

"Yes – it is quite stunning isn't it? The bright rust trees with the snow higher up. It all just gleams a bit."

They hiked through the morning, stopping here and there to rest and take in the view. They had packed a hot lunch and covered it with a warming charm, so they were able to enjoy hot soup, bread and tea after hiking for several hours.

"It's strange, you know. The leaves feel the same color as the earth did back at Uluru in Australia. Definitely colder though!" Ron observed.

"The leaves are the same rust color, but the frost and snow colored bits on the fells are so striking. And seeing it all reflected in a lake – it feels ever so much more lush that the desert did."

"Well – that and no pulsating magic."

Hermione laughed. "Well, nowhere is perfect I suppose. You know – another not so perfect part? It will start to get dark here in another hour. It isn't quite as far north as Hogwarts was, but it will certainly be dark by tea time at this time of year."

"Should we hike down this fell and then head home?"

"Well, we could. But – maybe we keep being spontaneous?"

"Who am I to stand in the way of Hermione Granger having a recklessly spontaneous day?" Ron teased.

They made their way down the path and soaked in the early evening light against the glowing trees. Once at the bottom, Hermione suggested they head over to the Hill Top house where Beatrix Potter had lived. They didn't really want to tour her old home, but Hermione did want to show him the art she had done. They found a gallery there and wandered through looking at the delicate watercolors that had been done so long ago.

"Looks a lot like home," Ron said thoughtfully. "Well, even at The Burrow the rabbits didn't have jackets or anything, but I have a soft spot for country life, I suppose."

Hermione smiled at him fondly.

"Is this the naughty rabbit?" Ron asked.

Hermione told him the story of Peter Rabbit and his run-ins with Mr. McGregor. Ron laughed, "Sounds a bit like Fred and George versus Filch, don't you think?"

Hermione laughed in return. "You have just shed a whole new light on the stories of my childhood, Ron."

They left the gallery laughing and found a small pub where they could have supper. Tucking into their meals, Ron felt as relaxed as he had since before the war. The day had been wonderful. They were out of the city surrounded by fresh, country air. They hadn't talked about any of the hard things they often had to focus on. They simply enjoyed each other's company. As he looked at Hermione sitting next to him, she was animatedly telling him about some other muggle author from the area. He really hadn't followed that part. He was too distracted by the spark that had returned to her eyes. Her cheeks were rosy and pink, probably some from the wind burn from their hike, but he thought it looked a lot like life creeping back into her cheeks. She was moving her hands, gesturing as she talked, and it looked like she was conducting an orchestra of ideas, the way she used to do back in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Ron, Ron? Are you listening?"

"Huh? Yes, I was listening to you talk about the author…" he stumbled. "You were saying?"

"Ron, seriously – did you hear anything I said about William Wordsworth?"

"Um. Not really. I was a bit distracted," he admitted. "I – well – the bloke's name was Wordsworth? I mean, it's like he didn't have much of a choice on what to become, right?"

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. "Today's been fabulous."

"Couldn't agree more. I can't imagine a better day."

"You want to go home and have your dessert?"

"We have dessert at home?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of this," she said as she leaned over, slowly kissing Ron's ear while moving her hand up his thigh.

"I was wrong," Ron grinned. "I just realized how the day is still getting better."

She smiled, and they left the pub together, his arm around her waist, hurrying to get behind the building so they could apperate home.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

It had been several days since their trip to the Lake District, and Ron and Hermione had been busy taking advantage of their time away from work and school to work on the Grimmauld Place renovations. With Christmas quickly approaching, they needed the old home to be at least in habitable shape by January so they and Harry could move in after the holidays. Hermione was adamant that a minimum of the two bedrooms, a bathroom, the kitchen and the living room be finished before they moved in. The contractors had finished with the bedrooms and living room, but the final parts of the bathroom and kitchen still needed to be completed.

Ron had spent the day with the contractor working on the plumbing issues in both the kitchen and the bathroom near their bedrooms. He hadn't seen Hermione since they had arrived that morning, as she was focused on finishing the painting spells in both bedrooms. While Ron didn't have any training with plumbing, he had fixed enough things at The Burrow over the years to be able to help with most things. He'd spent most of his day on his back with his head in the cabinets beneath sinks. The contractor left not long after lunch, but Ron wanted to get all of the plumbing done so the rest of the finish work could get started. He had his wand with him under the cabinets lighting the dark space while he tinkered with the pipes, and used it to summon various wrenches he needed from his tool box. He really couldn't imagine the muggle repair work that Harry and Hermione had talked about, as even with magic he was exhausted.

They were going to The Burrow for dinner later. It was going to be the first time Hermione had seen his family since everything happened. He was nervous for her, but they both agreed she needed to start doing more and more of her normal activities so everything didn't come as a shock at the holidays or in January when she went back to school. She also hadn't spent any time away from him yet. And, as he had to go back to work the next week to help with the Christmas sales, she might need to spend some time with his mum if she wasn't up for being at home alone. He'd been encouraged by the fact that she had spent the day mostly by herself painting. While he'd technically been in the same building, he hadn't seen her since they'd arrived that morning, so he was counting it as progress.

Finally securing the last pipe, he shimmied his long torso out from under the kitchen sink. Sitting up, he stretched the kinks out of his back and wiped the wet grime from his face with the front of his t shirt. Getting to his feet, he flicked his wand to turn on the tap and broke into a large grin when the water flowed clearly into the sink. He stuck his head back under the sink to check for leaks, but saw that his work was holding. Pleased with his progress, he flicked the water off and went to find Hermione.

He found her on a ladder in their soon to be bedroom. She was covered with speckles of paint of blue, burgundy and yellow. He crinkled his nose at the burgundy color, but glancing around didn't see any in the room.

"The pale blue looks great in here," he said as he looked at the walls. "With that white trim it looks so clean and calming almost. Never thought I would be able to say that about Grimmauld Place."

"Well, I think I could use some calming these days. And, let's face it – there was no way it was going to be orange."

"Well, ok. But I am also glad that maroon from your shirt isn't in our room either."

"No," she said laughing. "That's in Harry's room. It's mostly this warm yellow, but it has an accent wall in the Gryffindor burgundy."

"Nice – I'll pop in and check it out. I just finished up in the kitchen, and I am pleased to say we now have running water in there and the three bathrooms."

"Excellent! Good job. I am almost done here and then we can head home and get cleaned up, Merlin knows we both need it before dinner tonight."

She turned back to face the wall where she had been working. Standing on her tip toes in her bare feet, she reached as far as she could to correct one spot on the wall. Ron watched her, amazed at how sexy she managed to look in dirty ripped jeans, her t-shirt covered in paint and her hair in plaits and covered in a small scarf.

She turned and saw him staring, "Does it look ok?"

"Looks amazing from here, love. Oh – and the room looks great too," he winked as she blushed. "I'll just go see the other room and then help you clean up."

He ducked out, popping into Harry's room. It looked good and definitely like a room Harry would love. It was warm, had a touch of Gryffindor class, and would have great light coming in the windows. He laughed as he thought how Sirius would hardly be able to recognize the place. Unable to break the sticking charm, they had cut out the entire wall with his mother's portrait on it and moved it to an upstairs suite full of items only Kreacher could enjoy. Kreacher had come a long way since that summer before fifth year. Harry gave him a suite of rooms on the top floor where he could keep old Black family relics, and once Kreacher realized his precious items weren't to be thrown away he became almost nice.

An hour later, Ron was showered, dressed and in their kitchen back at her parents' home waiting for Hermione to finish getting ready. Knowing how many paint speckles she was covered in, he was sure it would take a while for her to get it all off. He'd sent an owl to his mum earlier in the day asking her to give Hermione some space at dinner and to not ask all the questions he knew she was dying to ask. He knew Hermione needed to ease back into group interactions, and he was hoping this would be a great first step.

"You ready?" Ron asked as Hermione came down the stairs.

She nodded, nervously chewing her bottom lip.

"It will be fine, Hermione. It's just dinner at The Burrow, which you have done a million times. And – there won't even be a full house tonight. It will just be Mum, Dad, George and us."

"You're right," she groaned, "If I can't make it through a night at The Burrow with those three then even thinking about school is ridiculous."

"Not exactly how I would have phrased it," he retorted. "But it's just a first step. You can't run before you walk, you know."

She smiled, and then stepped into the fireplace, threw down the powder and said "The Burrow." He smiled as he watched her go, and quickly followed. By the time he stepped into his childhood home, his mum had Hermione smothered in a fierce hug. But, to his relief, Hermione seemed to be embracing her back and not panicking at the contact. He greeted his dad and breathed in the amazing smell of his mum's cooking.

Soon his mum had exchanged Hermione's arms for Ron's, and now he was the one engulfed in her hugs.

"So good to have you two here, Ron. You've lost weight with all you've been doing, but don't worry about that I've made your favorite chicken and potatoes and there'll be plenty for you two to take home with you later."

He looked in her loving eyes saying, "Thanks, Mum. I've missed you too."

She hugged him again, patted his cheek lovingly and bustled off to the kitchen with Hermione.

A few minutes later George stepped out of the fireplace. Ron hadn't really seen him since they were at the hospital. They'd had a few floo calls about work issues, but George had been adamant about Ron having some time away from work to focus on Hermione's recovery.

"Good to see you two out and about," George said with a smile. "How's she doing?"

"Better. A lot better, I think," Ron said as he let out a deep breath. "Still needs to take small steps, but she is so much stronger than she was when you last saw her. And I'm hoping she'll be able to head back to Hogwarts after the holidays."

"And how are you?"

"Oh, you know me – if she's fine, I'm fine."

"That's bollocks."

"No it's not."

"Look – I'm not saying that you aren't doing better if she's doing better. But, you haven't had a minute to yourself in forever. And you're doing all the renovations on Grimmauld Place. You're carrying all the weight for all of us. Again. And I just don't want to see you crack."

"You must be forgetting I have this understanding boss who let me have time off work to handle all of this stuff."

George smacked him upside the back of his head.

"Ok. I'll back off a bit. For now anyway. Just watch out for yourself. I need you for the long haul, so please pace yourself and let the rest of us pitch in a bit alright?"

"Yeah. Sure. Hey – how is the shop doing? Have you started to see business pick up for the holidays yet?"

"It's going pretty well I think. We really started to see more people come through this week. Lots of mums and grandmums carrying wish lists and such."

"Excellent…."

"George! I thought I heard your voice. Good to see you," said Hermione softly as she walked into the room.

George hugged her tightly.

"Not as good as it is to see you. You look a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you. Scared the shit out of me."

Hermione hugged him earnestly. "Thank you, George. For everything. Really…I can't even…."

"Don't mention it. Just so glad you're ok -that we are all ok. Now…let's go get some chicken before Mum is convinced she hasn't cooked enough."

Dinner went well. Ron had two helpings of everything. He was pleased to see Hermione ate most of her food as well. George talked a lot about the shop and what products were selling well. Ron's dad talked with Hermione about the differences in muggle life in Australia and England. His mum was fussing about making sure everyone had plenty of food. But, Ron caught her several times in a misty eyed stare watching the three of them.

They all chatted over dessert about the upcoming holidays. Ron was happy to hear that Rocks was still planning to come for Christmas. He'd been worried that a second international trip might be too much for him in such a short period of time. Rocks had only stayed long enough to hear Hermione and the Weasley brothers were safe before he returned to Sydney. Once George told him Hermione's parents had been told about the incident, he went and visited them as well, which had touched Hermione and Ron greatly when they'd learned of it.

Christmas was going to be a good time. While it would be difficult as it would be the first Christmas without Fred, Ron sensed that having George and Rocks together would be really helpful. Not to mention humorous. Throwing in the Grangers coming for a thoroughly Weasley Christmas, and Harry and Ginny's first reunion in months, and Ron felt that there would be a lot of happy moments to balance out the hard ones they were sure to face.

After dinner they all had tea in living room. He was currently trouncing his brother in chess as his father looked on. But, Ron couldn't help but let his attention drift over to watch Hermione chatting quietly on the sofa with his mum. While Hermione had been slightly tentative to come this evening, he was thrilled to see that some time being mothered seemed to be doing her well. He couldn't quite catch all of their conversation, but he could tell both women got slightly teary eyed a few times, and watched them hug more than once. He knew he loved Hermione, and that he had helped her recover, but there was something about motherly love that just couldn't be duplicated.

Several days after their dinner at The Burrow, Ron really needed to get back to work. While George didn't ask him to return, he knew the shop's first holiday shopping season since the war would be critical to their finances. As Hermione was not quite yet ready to be on her own all day, she decided that she would come with Ron to the shop, but would spend much of the day either up in George's flat or in Ron's office at the store. She packed her beaded bag full of books, and the two were off to the shop. She headed off to read in the flat, and Ron returned to his desk for the first time in weeks.

It wasn't that he hadn't been alone in a room by himself at all in those weeks, but it had been a while since he had focused on anything except for Hermione or the Grimmauld Place renovations. He sat at his desk for a few moments before shaking his head and heading back to the storeroom to make some tea to help clear his mind a bit. George chuckled a bit as he watched Ron stumble about trying to find his footing in the shop again. But, after an hour or so, Ron had dug through the pile of parchment that had accumulated on his desk. The shop was busy, too, as it was only a few weeks until Christmas. Most of the kids were still at Hogwarts, but the parents and little children were out and about on Diagon Alley, and the mail orders had certainly picked up as well.

He was helping a very concerned mum navigate through the risks of getting the items on her children's wish lists when he noticed Hermione come down from the flat with plates of food. After convincing the nervous mum that the puking pastilles wouldn't cause any permanent damage, she bought a package for each of her three boys as well as the charmed jump rope for her daughter. Seizing the break in the store, he headed back to the storeroom to find Hermione, and hopefully lunch.

"I thought I saw you pop back in here. Thanks for making sandwiches!"

"Looks like it's been a busy morning. How are you holding up?"

"Took an hour or so to figure out which end was up, but I think it's going quite smoothly now," replied Ron as he bit into a ham sandwich. "I can't believe George had all of this food up in his apartment."

"Well, he didn't. He hasn't changed that much. I floo'd back to my parents' house for a minute to grab the ingredients. I hesitated initially, but I realized it wasn't a big deal, and just did it quickly before I could talk myself out of it. Felt slightly self-sufficient anyway, even if only for a moment."

"That's great, Hermione. I'm proud of you. Each step is a big one," he said as he quickly pecked her on the lips.

"Well, I'm proud of me too. Though, I am definitely not ready to go pick up lunch at the Leaky yet."

"For the record – I'm not up for that either. But, give yourself some credit! You are doing great."

They chatted through lunch, and then Ron popped back out to relieve George and let him grab a bite as well.

"Cheers, Hermione, you can make me lunch any day!" declared George.

"I'll keep that in mind, George, if my dream job doesn't pan out."

"What is your dream job anyway?"

"I am not sure I really know actually. I've always thought I would like to work with something involving increasing the rights of magical creatures like elves and goblins. But, I don't quite know what that would look like. Now that my NEWTs are done I am going to get to spend some time doing special study projects on law and magical creatures, so I hope to figure it out a bit more over the next few months."

"Sounds most assuredly not up my alley. But, I have no doubt you could be Minister of Magic if you wanted to be. And, if saving the world – you know, for the second time, doesn't pan out, then you, my love, have a standing offer to be the official WWW Sandwich Maker."

"I'll keep that in mind, George. Thanks."

"Anything for you, my dear. Now, I am off before there is a pygmy puff rebellion in there. You staying down here?"

"No, I'm going back up to your flat and read some more if that's ok. I think I have a date with your sofa, your mum's afghan and a good book."

"Well, I guess I will have to not mention to my brother that you are sneaking around behind his back with a book and a blanket then," George said with a friendly wink.

Hermione chuckled as he left.

Ron was knee deep in customers when he saw his brother coming back into the front of the shop. He smiled as George caught his eye and gave him a nod of appreciation. Coming from George, Ron knew it meant a lot.

A week later, Ron had grown used to their new routine. They'd both floo to the upstairs flat, then she would either help in the back storeroom or read upstairs. While still not ready to spend a full day alone, she had spent a few hours here and there at her parents' home alone and seemed to be growing increasingly comfortable with short adventures of independence.

Ron sighed thinking of her as he moved boxes around in the storeroom.

"Do you have something against those trick wands there, Ron?" George asked from the doorway.

"What? Oh, sorry."

Ron realized he'd been slamming the boxes against the wall of the storeroom.

"Can I assume your anger at our fine joke products has a little something to do with the lack of a certain witch today?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess that'd be a fair bet."

"It's a good thing that she's ready to be home by herself all day, isn't it?"

"No, I mean yes. I mean, well, she's not at home today. She had this appointment with the counselor today. I told her I'd come, but she said she was ready to try going by herself. I get that she'd want to talk to the counselor alone, but I thought I could take her to the place and wait in the waiting room or something, but she really insisted she wanted to go alone. And, I guess she is more ready for her to be out on her own again than I am."

"Are you worried about her safety?"

"I shouldn't be, I guess. Maybe more nervous than worried. We got into an argument, maybe not argument exactly…"

"Not one of your old fashioned rows?"

"No – no. Not exactly."

"What happened?"

"Well, I was trying to insist on coming and waiting in the waiting room. She was pointing out that she is probably safer in muggle London at this counselor office than she is hanging out here on Diagon Alley, which is probably true. But, I mean…fuck, George, I've had her taken from me _twice_ ," he said as his voice cracked.

He tried to shake off the emotion, but his brother had seen the pain behind his eyes.

"Hey, Ron, it's alright. She'll be ok, yeah?" he said as he patted his taller baby brother on the back.

"I know. My head knows anyway. She promised to send a patronus as soon as she was home. And I told her if I hadn't heard from her by quarter past 4 then I was coming to wherever her hairclip said she was," he said as he waved the charmed paper up to George. "I know it says she's still there. But, arrgggh," he said as he kicked an empty box across the room.

"Ok. Let's not punish the storeroom. You know what we need to do? We need to invent something."

"I don't think I'm up for being a lab rat right now George."

"No – no, not a gag product. We need to invent something so you can always communicate with Hermione. And vice versa. Muggles have those phones they carry around that send messages, we just need a magical version of it. It would help you, and it would probably make us a ton of money."

"You think you could figure that out?"

"Ron – we found Hermione in a castle dungeon when the entire auror department couldn't do it, didn't we?"

"Fair point. You know – I bet something like that would be incredibly useful as a security line too. Something we could market to the ministry for aurors and such. Maybe even to aurors in other countries."

"And that, little brother, is exactly why you are good in this job. I never would have thought of that. But – it is brilliant."

Just then, a silvery otter bounced into the room, found Ron and said, "Just wanted you to know I am home safe. The time with Becky was great. I'll tell you all about it tonight over take away. I love you, Ron."

Ron let out a huge breath of relief, and felt tears come to his eyes.

George patted him on his back, "Come on Ronniekins, let's finish up here so you can get home to your take away."

By the time Ron stepped through the floo into the living room a few hours later, Hermione had dinner all set up and covered in warming charms. He was so relieved to see her, he quickly embraced her and gave her a deep kiss.

"Wow," she blushed. "If I'd known I'd get that kind of reception I would have gone off on my own sooner."

He smiled as he kissed her again. "Just missed you today."

"I missed you too."

"But it went well?"

"Very well. I guess I was a little nervous going by myself, but it went fine. It's strange – I think I feel a little safer wandering around in muggle London by myself now than I do the magical world. I hope that will change eventually, but no one knows me. It's kind of nice being anonymous again."

"I know what you mean."

"Come sit. I want to hear about your day."

"Just another day at the shop I suppose. Your time with Becky was good?"

"Really good actually. She was so complimentary of you."

"Why? I wasn't even there."

"Well I told her how amazing you've been. And how you've somehow just known how to take care of me in a way to help me get back to myself, you know? She said you had a really strong, intuitive sense of how to care for me, which I completely agree with."

Ron felt his ears go red.

"But, she thinks I'm making great progress – faster than she expected, and she said a lot of that is thanks to you. She said I should try to do some more small outings or trips on my own to gain more confidence. But, well – she has me pegged pretty well. She said I needed to not overdo it and to not try to set a schedule for it or anything."

At this Ron laughed. "She does have you pegged. You'd have made up a revising planner for solo trips."

"I know. I know. But, I think she's right. More baby steps, you know?"

"Right. Makes sense."

"I still – I still get nervous on my own. You know all these psychology books say that my reaction should calm down once my brain realizes I am really safe. But, well, the truth is that in many ways you and I will never be totally safe. I told Becky there are always going to be wackos who will see us as a symbol of things they don't agree with or even that they hate, and she agreed with me. So, while I don't feel crazy for being anxious about it, I still need to figure out how to feel safe."

"You know, George and I talked about that exact thing today."

"Really?"

"Well – yeah. I wasn't exactly a picture of serenity waiting to get your patronus saying you were home safe. Anyway. We talked about how we want to develop something similar to a muggle phone that you can carry around and use to send messages and stuff. And then I suggested we come up with a security version of that for aurors and such. We won't have it before Christmas, but hopefully George can figure it out. Don't know about you, but it would make me feel a hell of a lot better."

"What a brilliant idea. You won't be able to keep them on the shelves."

"Would be great for the shop. But honestly I am most focused on us – and being able to always know you are ok and vice versa."

She leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You are a sweet, sweet man, Ron Weasley." Then she looked at him again and sighed. "So, until you and George invent this fabulous new thing, what are we going to do?"

"Well, the hair clip helped. I knew where you were."

"True. But you don't wear hair clips."

Ron laughed. "Well spotted, love. I guess I can either grow my hair out long like Bill, or we can charm something I keep on me as well as a start. Maybe something I carry in my wallet?"

Hermione chuckled. "While I think you look sexy no matter how long your hair is, I think it's a little too soon after it was so long on the horcrux hunt. I vote you stay nice and clean shaven for a while if that's ok with you. And the wallet idea sounds like a great start."

"Hmm. Making a mental note on the short hair," he smirked. "But, what else did Becky say?"

"I don't know. I guess it isn't so much as what she said as how she helps me think through things. To not feel so crazy I guess. She just helps me get out of my own head a bit. She thought it would be good to focus on a project of some kind."

"Like what?"

"Well, we brainstormed a little bit. We came up with the idea of finishing up Grimmauld Place – not just the construction stuff but the fun stuff too."

"What fun stuff?"

"Oh, you know – like the decorating part."

"But we pretty much painted it already, didn't we?"

"Well, yes, but unless you want to hang the Black Family Portraits back up, we probably need a Plan B."

"Oh, ok. Plan B it is. So, lots of Cannons posters?"

"Right. Exactly," she said as she rolled her eyes. "But, it could be fun to do some of that – doing the shopping and arranging and such. And it could help me feel productive while getting some stuff of your plate, which would make me feel like less of a burden."

"Hermione, you are not a burden! I love you."

"I know you do. And I love you too. But, you have to admit you have been carrying more than your fair share lately."

"What are you talking about? I am not the one who has been tortured or kidnapped here," he gasped. "Ok, wait, that didn't come out right."

"No, it's ok. I know what you mean, and it's true. Those things did happen to me. And they were awful, and they have changed me. But they have changed you too. Both of those things hurt you as much or more as they hurt me, just in different ways I think. And you have been taking care of both George and I for months now. Aside from one brief breakdown in Australia, I don't think you've had a minute to deal with any of what this past year has done to you too."

"I just keep doing what needs to be done. I'm ok."

"I'm not trying to tell you're not. I'm just saying it's my turn to help do some of those things. I used to be so in charge and so productive. And being this fragile, scared person isn't ok with me. I know I'll never be the same person I was, but I need to get back to who I was at least a little bit. And, I want to get back to us being partners again."

"I thought we already were partners," he said with a tinge of hurt in his voice.

"We are. In a lot of ways. But Ron, admit it – you have had to be a bit of a babysitter too. And that's not fair to either of us."

"Babysitter?"

"Ron – you've been amazing. But you know very well that I wouldn't hardly let you leave the room without me for days on end. Even someone like yourself who loves being around people needs a few moments to themselves."

"Hermione, please know – I haven't begrudged one second of that. I have worried about it. And I have felt like I didn't know what I was doing. But I never, ever thought of you as a burden. And I know that if the roles were reversed you would have figured out exactly what to do and would be even better at taking care of me."

"While I hope nothing bad ever happens to you, Ron, I can only hope that of it did I could be even half as wonderful as you have been."

"Hermione, we're in this for the long-haul, right? It's not about payback. It's about love. I love you more than anything. And when you are hurting I am hurting, and I will do anything I can to fix it. Not because I want things easy. But because I love you. And I want you to be happy. Not for weeks. Not for years. But for decades. I need you to be your amazing, brilliant, passionate, feisty, gorgeous, sexy self for at least the next sixty or seventy years, ok?"

Hermione just looked at him for a few moments before saying anything. Then she wiped what seemed to be a tear from her eye and said, "I love you too, Ron, and I am here for the long haul as well. And I hope at some point in all of those decades to help you as much as you've helped me. But, as for being sexy in sixty years – I make no promises what so ever." Then she laughed as she kissed him again.

"I guess I will have to be the judge of that, then" said Ron coyly. "I can picture it now. I'll throw you over my shoulder - which will be next to my balding red head, which will be covered in very dashing freckles, I'm sure. And your granny panties will fall down to your ankles and I'll slowly take you back to the bedroom with the aid of my walker. We'll be quite a site, and I will love every minute of it."

"Hmm," she laughed. "You sure know how to turn a girl on. Granny panties, bald heads and walkers, huh?"

"Yup."

"I'll love every minute of it too," she said with a smile.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

It was 5 pm Christmas Eve night when George and Ron finally locked the doors behind the last customers leaving the shop. The brothers were so worn out, they both slid to the floor with backs against the door, tiredly laughing and Ron clicking the lights off with his deluminator.

"If I wasn't so damn tired right now I'd tell you how much I appreciate all you've done and all that shite," George said as he accioed Firewhisky and two shot glasses from behind the counter. "But I am that damn tired, and I am rubbish at that emotional crap. So can we simply drink to a successful Christmas season?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely," grinned Ron. "To a successful season, and a week off!"

With that, they clinked glasses and downed their shots, and then George headed off to meet Rocks, who was coming in by portkey in an hour. Ron picked up the packages hidden in his office and headed back to have dinner with the Hermione and her parents. Hermione's parents had returned a week before Christmas. Ron and Hermione planned to stay at the Granger's through Christmas morning to spend more time with them, but Ron hadn't actually been able to be around much due to the crazy hours he had to work at the shop the last few shopping days of the year.

The Grangers traditionally had their holiday supper on Christmas Eve, and by the time he arrived the house smelled amazing, causing his stomach to growl loudly.

"Wow, it smells amazing in here," he said as he stepped into the kitchen.

"Hi, Ron," Jean said. "It will be another 45 minutes or so 'til dinner. Plenty of time to go get washed up. I think Hermione is upstairs wrapping presents. But, she said you'd be famished when you got here, so I put aside a few rolls to tide you over."

"Brilliant," he grinned, snagging the rolls and heading upstairs to get cleaned up.

He often took the steps two at a time, but he wasn't remotely tempted to do that tonight. Every cell in his body seemed to be exhausted. He supposed it was from the stress of everything before the holidays with Hermione and then the huge amount of work at the shop for their busy season. But, he was sure that as soon as his head hit the pillow that night he would be completely out. He headed into their bedroom and saw Hermione fixing bows on some packages and greeted her with a kiss.

"Hi, welcome home," she said with a smile. "So you survived the Christmas rush, huh?"

"Barely," he laughed. "But I am knackered and covered in who knows what, so I am going to take a quick shower before dinner."

"Sounds good. Want company?" she said with a wicked grin.

"Usually you know I would leap at the chance, but blimey, Hermione – your parents are here! It's weird enough for us to share a room in their house with them here. Having sex in the shower with them downstairs is pushing it, don't you think?"

"Hmm. Maybe," she conceded. "But I seem to recall getting up to plenty of things at The Burrow with your parents there."

"Well, a bit. But we got up to more things when we were other places like Shell Cottage or Australian hotels," he grinned and leaned down to kiss her. "But we're moving to Grimmauld Place soon. Then we can get up to all kinds of things again."

"Ok, you painfully appropriate soul. Go take your shower. I think you have some darkness powder stuck in your hair and it looks rather strange."

He rolled his eyes and headed to get cleaned up while Hermione went down to help her mum in the kitchen.

They all enjoyed a nice dinner together, though Ron was still slightly unused to such a quiet family meal. As he was clearly exhausted, Hermione suggested he head on up to bed after pudding while she helped her mum wrap a few last minute things. He thanked her with a peck on the cheek and gratefully headed up to bed. When Hermione came up later, she was greeted with soft snores.

Ron woke up in the middle of the night having no idea what time it was, only that it was completely dark and Hermione was asleep next to him. He quietly got up and went to the loo. While there he glanced in the mirror, and he was struck by the aged face staring back at him. He knew he was tired from working so much in the shop, but as he leaned in to examine his face more, he could see the strain of so much more than that etched in his face. He sighed, and it turned into a yawn, before rubbing his face with his hands. He quietly crept back into bed.

The movement of the bed must have jostled Hermione slightly, and without waking up she curled into him as he lay back on the mattress. Her left hand over his chest and her left leg thrown over his, she nuzzled her head against his shoulder and sighed contentedly. Ron couldn't help but stare at her, still slightly in awe that this was his life.

Laying there he could feel his stomach begin to churn thinking of all that had changed since last Christmas. He had tried to keep those thoughts safely locked away as the holiday approached, but tonight it was as if he was too tired to exert the effort needed to keep that door locked shut. As he closed his eyes he instantly remembered the cold, lonely, self-loathing despair he had been drowning in exactly twelve months prior. He had been going out each day trying to find them, though mostly spending his days wandering through small towns and obscure forests berating himself. But Fleur and Bill had insisted he be home for Christmas. They tried to convince him to spend it with the rest of the family, but he'd adamantly refused. Fuck. What he wouldn't give now to spend another Christmas with Fred. And while he knew he couldn't have faced his family that day, he really regretted missing that chance to have one last Christmas altogether. But, then thinking some more, he realized Percy wasn't there then either – or the year before that.

He sighed, taking his free right hand and rubbing his eyes trying to remember the last time all nine of them had been together, let alone together at Christmas. Was it really as long ago as the trip to Egypt? Surely they'd been together since then. But, as much as he wracked his brain, he couldn't think of a time that his three oldest brothers had all been home at once since Charlie had moved to Romania. At least Charlie, Bill and Percy would all be there this year.

His mum was still fragile, and he was worried that the next day would be too much for her. If Rocks and Teddy weren't going to be there, the whole day would have definitely been utter shite. But, maybe the combination of the mini metamorphagus and the mischievous man from down under would be what they needed to get through the holiday as a family. His thoughts continued to swirl between angst over the Christmases behind him and anxiety over the Christmas to come, but somehow he slipped into a fitful sleep.

The next thing he knew he was alone and cold in a forest, trekking through the wood and trying to cover each footstep as he went. He was looking everywhere for Hermione and Harry, and he was panicking, worrying she wasn't safe. As he wiped some snow back over his tracks with his freezing fingers, suddenly Fred's face appeared hovering between the trees.

Then he heard Fred say in a disgusted voice, "ickle Ronniekins, this is a new low even for you. I trusted you to take care of the witches you loved. But Ginny is being persecuted at school, Mum is worried sick as she has no idea where you are or even if you're alive, and Hermione is not only heartbroken and starving but coming face to face with Voldy's snake without you even bothering to show up. You've made a right arse of yourself little brother."

Next Ron found himself screaming at Fred's translucent face in the wood, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry- Merlin, I'm so sorry. Just show me what to do, Fred. Tell me how to find them so I can take care of them. I promise I won't bugger it up again. I promise. Where are they? How do I find them? Wait, Fred - please don't go, don't leave me, Fred! They'll torture her, they'll kill you! How do I stop it?! Tell me! Dammit, Fred!"

But the next thing he knew, Hermione was shaking him to wake up. "Ron, Ron, wake up, Ron. You're having a nightmare. You're ok. I'm right here."

He opened his eyes in a flash and saw Hermione's worried eyes looking back at him. "You're ok, Ron. It was a nightmare. I'm right here."

"You're here; You're safe," he sobbed, engulfing her tightly in his embrace.

"Shhh, shhh," Hermione said against his neck. "I'm right here. I'm safe. It's all ok. It was only a dream," she repeated as he tried to stop the tears leaking from his eyes and the shaking in his hands and breath.

After a few minutes he had calmed down and had shifted to being embarrassed.

"I'm so sorry I woke you," he cringed.

"Oh, please," Hermione scoffed. "You have a long, long way to go to catch up to the number of times you have pulled me out of a nightmare. Not that we're keeping score anyway. But, I get it, you know? I understand. The nightmare isn't real, but the adrenaline and panic is."

"Yeah," he said meekly. "But when it's more of a memory than a nightmare the guilt is real too."

"Ronald Weasley, you look at me right now," she commanded as he continued to avoid her eyes. Frustrated, she didn't wait and moved his chin to force him to catch her gaze. "Now you listen to me. There is nothing – _nothing_ – that you should feel guilty about, do you understand me?"

He said nothing, causing Hermione to erupt with a sigh combining frustration, fury and love.

"Ron, please hear me. We were teenagers in a war facing the darkest magic imaginable. We were faced with magic so dark and so evil we couldn't even find books about it to figure out how to destroy it. And, being the starving, confused, scared teenagers we were, we unfortunately wore the damn thing around our necks. And in doing that, we basically ripped our hearts open bare for Voldemort to pulverize and turn against us. It was not my fault. It was not Ginny's fault. It was not Harry's fault. And it sure as hell wasn't your fault."

As she spoke, his eyes closed involuntarily, a few tears escaping down his cheek. "I'm trying to believe it, Hermione, I really am. But I just – well – if I'm being honest I just don't believe it yet."

Hermione's eyes lit with fury and determination, but Ron didn't notice as his were still closed. Sitting up straighter, crossing her legs and facing him, she reached out to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

"Hey, hey, Ron, look at me. Please, Ron?" He slowly opened his red-rimmed eyes still glossy with tears and looked into hers. "Ron, do remember after you rescued me from the castle and I wasn't speaking?" He nodded, so she continued. "Then I couldn't tell the difference between a dream, a hallucination and reality. I just wasn't able to believe that you had come – that I was safe again. I was so scared that if I spoke I would break the spell and my dream would disappear. But you believed enough for the both of us. And eventually I was able to believe it too. And you know what? Now it's my turn. I am going to keep believing this enough for both of us until you can believe it too."

He reached for her again, pulling her tightly to him, "I love you so much."

"I love you, Ron. So much. And it will get better. I will help you get there. We'll get there together."

"I'm trying."

"I know. Just like I'm trying to eat more. One meal at a time. It's all we can do."

Ron nodded against her shoulder and didn't say anything. She gently began to play with his hair and rub his back, and then Ron finally admitted, "Today's going to be really hard."

Hermione nodded against him, "Yes. It is. But we'll face it together. I'll be right beside you if you want me to."

"I always want you beside me, Hermione. That's what…" he said as his voice faded.

"That's what?" she asked.

"That's what I was dreaming about – or thinking about I guess. I dunno. Last Christmas when I couldn't get to you. I couldn't find you. I was so scared. So scared for you. And for me. And, fuck, Hermione I just don't ever want that again."

"You won't have to, Ron."

"I'm so sorry. I should have been there."

"Not your fault! It was Voldemort's fault! But you know what? We killed him. One ridiculously evil piece at a time, but we did it. So he won last Christmas. But he didn't win in the end."

They were quiet again for a while until Ron said, "I'm trying to believe you about last Christmas. I really am. But, you know what, I am not sure I ever apologized for the Christmas before that when we weren't able to be together then either. And that one was totally my fault. And I am so, so sorry."

She looked at him with a sad smile. "Thank you, Ron. And as we've talked about before – that wasn't _totally_ your fault. A lot your fault, mind you, but not totally," she said with a laugh. "But I appreciate the sentiment. And while I know today is going to be really, really hard – I am so glad to be spending this Christmas with you. And we're not just celebrating together in the same place. But now we can celebrate that we really are together, and that is all I really want – all I've ever wanted."

"I love you so much," he said as he caught her lips in his.

She sighed into his mouth and moaned in reply as he deepened the kiss and ran his fingers through her hair. She softly explored his mouth with her tongue, and then she shifted so she was straddling his lap and she moved her lips to his jaw and neck. His body responded immediately, and he groaned in response as her bum wriggled against his hardening cock. She grinned as she reached over and cast all the privacy and contraception charms and then tugged her shirt over her head. His lips were immediately on her breasts, reveling in the softness of her skin and the reactions he could pull from her with simply a flick of his tongue or a touch of his fingers. Before long he had rolled her onto her back and they had both shed their remaining clothes. He entered her, and they both gasped in that agony of prolonged pleasure as he began to slowly pump into her. Refusing to let go of her gaze, he was lost in her chocolate eyes as she met each thrust with her hips, grasping his muscled back. Soon she was falling over the edge in pleasure, and her orgasm triggered his as her muscles quivered around him. They held each other in the dark, slowly bringing their breathing back to normal, when Hermione caught his eye again.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," and then kissed him again.

Laying there in the dark, his brain overloaded from shagging, his naked body holding hers, he decided all he could do for now was be grateful. For if Fred ever discovered he was lying in bed with a naked Hermione in his arms wasting his thoughts on his late brother, Fred'd come back and haunt his dreams 'til next Christmas.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Ron had never slept in on Christmas morning before, but when he finally woke up and saw the clock he realized it was almost 10 am. Horrified that he had kept his hopefully future in-laws waiting, he bolted out of bed, only to realize he was still naked from shagging their daughter in their home the night before.

"Fuck," he muttered as he jumped in the shower and threw on some clothes. He hurried down the stairs to find Hermione and her parents calmly sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and drinking tea still in pajamas listening to some sort of choral Christmas music playing on the stereo.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," said Hugh. "Come have a cuppa."

"Uh, yeah," muttered Ron, a bit flabbergasted at the quiet and peaceful scene in front of him.

"Are you quite alright, Ron?" asked Jean.

"Yeah, uh, I mean, yes, thanks," he stammered.

Hermione grinned and motioned him over to sit. "My guess is Ron has never seen a Christmas morning quite so quiet."

"Something like that," he said guiltily with a lopsided grin. "Sorry, I apologize for sleeping so late. I hope I didn't delay anything."

"Nonsense," said Hugh as he handed Ron a mug of tea. "You've been working nonstop. You deserved a lie in. And we're still not totally adjusted to the time change ourselves, so we've had a lovely quiet morning."

"Thank you," Ron said with a nod.

"Well, save up the quiet serenity now," said Hermione, "because this evening at The Burrow will be anything but."

"That's an understatement," laughed Ron as he spooned sugar into his mug.

"Well, I am quite looking forward to it," said Jean. "Our Australian Christmases were, well, frankly they were much too summery for my British sensibility. Something about going swimming on Christmas just feels wrong."

"Sounds lovely right about now," said Ron as he watched the pelting rain outside the window.

"No, it's really not as tempting as it sounds," agreed Hugh. "Now, talk to me in a week and I might change my mind. But Christmas calls for proper Christmas weather in my book."

Jean served up some of the breakfast casserole they'd had that morning so Ron could eat before they opened presents. Then the four went and sat in the living room where Ron admired the muggle lights on the tree.

"They really are beautiful," marveled Ron. "And it's so nice not having to worry about the flame catching on something."

"You know, I hadn't thought of it that way," laughed Jean.

"Just wait 'til you have to untangle them from an attic and put them around a tree yourself, son," Hugh warned. "They'll lose a lot of their attraction for you. I promise you that."

"Oh, Dad. Don't be so dramatic," protested Hermione. "We'll help you wrap them up with magic so it will be easier next year."

Ron had been nervous about presents with the Grangers. He wasn't sure what their tradition was, but he was pretty confident that it involved a lot more money than the Weasley Christmases usually did. Hermione had tried to convince him that he didn't need to get them anything, but he'd known that was rubbish. He'd asked George for ideas, but he hadn't been much help. Then he'd tried Bill, who'd had a lot of sympathy for the situation but didn't have any real ideas other than the wine he gave his inlaws. Surprisingly, Percy had been the one with the most insight. Not only that, but Percy had approached him to be sure he had a plan.

"Ron, I don't want to overstep, but I just wanted to be sure you had a plan for getting something for Hermione's parents for Christmas." Percy had asked one Sunday at The Burrow.

Ron had cringed. "Actually, Perce. I haven't a fucking clue what to get for them. I've been wracking my brain and have come up with _nothing_. I mean – they're muggles; they're brilliant; they're wealthy tooth healers.…"

"Dentists, Ron. They are called dentists."

"Yeah, dentists," Ron lamented. "I mean – what am I going to do, give them puking pastilles?"

"Actually, I was going to see if you wanted help."

"Definitely. And thank you. But, should I even ask how you know an appropriate present for wealthy, muggle tooth healer, hopefully future-in-laws?"

Percy chuckled softly. "Well, when I was – well – when I was more or less alone for a few years, I found it much easier to spend my time away from everything by disappearing into the muggle world for a while. I would wander through shops, read the muggle magazines in book shops and such, or even sit in cafes where they had muggle teles playing."

"Apple didn't fall far from the tree, huh, Perce?"

"I hope not anyway. But, well, when I was being a total prat it was at least a way I could mentally connect with Dad even if I couldn't talk to him."

"I'm glad your prat days are behind us. Having you back is better for all of us."

"Most especially me, I assure you," said Percy uncomfortably. "But, you may be able to benefit from my muggle meanderings. You need to get something that is more of a meaningful gesture than a pricey gift."

"Ok. Clearly no jumpers or products from the shop, but what would be a meaningful gesture? What says, hey – so sorry about the obliviation thing and the not-being-able-to-protect-your-daughter-from-torture-or-kidnapping thing and the thanks-for-being-alright-with-me-shagging-your-daughter-and-letting-us-live-in-sin-together-in-your-house thing?"

"Ronald!"

"Well?"

"From all I have heard and seen the Grangers adore you and are so grateful for you not only saving her from the torture AND the kidnapping but also for helping them heal their relationship with their daughter! Give yourself some credit. But, to answer the question I think was in there somewhere, this gift is simply about saying 'I adore your daughter and therefore I am grateful for you.'"

"Ok. So what says that?"

Percy had sat there quietly pondering the problem at hand until he suddenly lit yup in excitement.

"I've got the perfect thing, Ronald. And I even think I know where to get it. Leave to me."

"What is it?"

"I have to make sure I can find it first," Percy had said excitedly as he'd rushed off.

But a few days later when he did see what his brother had hunted down for him, he was thrilled.

"Percy! Bloody hell, this is perfect! Thank you so much!"

Percy had simply beamed at being able to help his younger brother for once.

Ron was quite interested to see Hugh and Jean's reaction - not to mention Hermione's - to the gift. So, as Hermione handed out the few presents under the muggle-lit tree that morning, he was holding his breath as she handed the gift to her parents.

"Oh, this one's from you, Ron?" Jean had said as she looked at the tag. "You really didn't have to do that."

"Oh, of course I did! You've both been so welcoming to me in spite of – well – everything. And, I just wanted to be sure you both know how much I really appreciated it," he said awkwardly and with as much confidence as he could muster.

Hermione was sitting on the sofa next to him beaming at him, and touched his leg lovingly as he was speaking.

"Well, you've taken such amazing care of our little girl when we couldn't. The least we could do is welcome you into the family, Ron."

"Come on, Jean, you're making the poor boy's ears turn red. Just open it already," protested Hugh, much to Ron's great relief.

"Oh alright," she scoffed as she pulled the ribbon and peeled back the wrapping paper. She looked in the box with a confused expression for a moment as Ron felt himself tense in concern before Jean melted into a giant grin and gasped in excitement. "Ron! Is this? You shouldn't have! It's amazing!"

"Well, what is it, Mum?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly," agreed Hugh. "Care to share?"

"Look, Hugh," she said passing the old book to her husband. "It's an 1808 printing of Shakespeare's 'The Winter's Tale'! It's even got illustrations!"

"Ron?!" gasped Hermione quietly. "However did you pull that off?"

Ron simply blushed as Hermione's mum wiped a tear from her eye. After sharing a knowing glance with her husband she asked, "Ron, do you know why we picked Hermione's name from this play?"

"No," he admitted. "I just assumed you liked Shakespeare I suppose."

"Well, I loved – and love – Shakespeare. Hugh here, well, he wasn't the fan I was. He had asked me out several times in dental school, but I kept turning him down. I didn't want to get distracted from school, you know."

"Oh, I think I can stretch my imagination far enough to picture that," he laughed, reaching for Hermione's hand.

"Spot on, son," smirked Hugh.

" _Anyway_ ," Jean continued. "I kept turning him down. But then he finally wore me down by getting tickets for us to go see The Winter's Tale. It was then that I knew – if he was willing to put up with a night of Shakespeare just to get me to agree to go out with him, then he was definitely worth giving a chance. So, it was our first date. And he had the gall that night at dinner to say, 'you know, I think you will eventually agree to marry me. And when we have a daughter some day we should name her Hermione.'"

"Yeah," Hugh laughed. "And she said something like 'Ok, sure. If by some chance we get married and then if we by some chance happen to have a baby girl, I promise we can name our daughter Hermione, you bloody nutter.'"

"Well, I thought I couldn't possible marry such a presumptuous bloke," she laughed. "But I am so glad I did. And then when we did learn we were having a little girl, Hugh laughed for days and said he was holding me to it."

"And I did!"

"But, by then I had come to love the name, because it reminded me of him and how wonderful life was just from taking a risk on a crazy bloke."

"I had never heard that story before," Hermione said.

"Well, it's true. So, Ron, I have no idea how you picked this – but it's perfect!"

Hermione beamed at him again, so Ron smiled and handed her the gift from him. "Well, on that note, it seems like the right time to give you this," he laughed.

She looked at him quizzically, opened the package and gasped happily when she pulled out the very old book inside. "Jane Austen!?"

"Yeah, from our 'first' date. But I really didn't know about your parents' first date when I got this."

"Thank you, Ron. This is perfect," she said as she kissed his cheek. Causing his ears to turn magenta.

"Careful, Ron. You're setting your own bar too high. You can never get away with giving her sensible gifts like snow boots or jumpers after this," Hugh observed causing all four of them to laugh.

It was just before tea time when Hermione and Ron each took one of her parents through the floo to The Burrow. Hermione had been a bit nervous about being in such a loud, noisy environment, but as soon as she stepped into the familiar home she felt at ease. Instead of feeling claustrophobic she felt cozy, and before she knew it, her parents had been whisked off by various Weasleys. She felt Ron's arm snake around her waist.

"You ok? We can go any time if it gets to be too much, you know."

"Actually, I am great, Ron. I thought I might get anxious with everyone here at once, but I don't feel it at all. Thank you for checking on me, though."

"Brilliant," he beamed. "But don't hesitate if that changes."

She smiled at him. "How about you? You ok?"

Ron sighed and had a slightly forced smile. "Some good, some bad. But glad to be here overall."

"OK. But you let me know if that changes, alright?"

"Yeah. Cheers. I'm going to go check on Mum. Looks like Ginny is flagging you down over there. And I know Harry is around here somewhere and dying to see you."

She grinned, kissed him on the cheek and headed off to chat. Ron smiled watching her go, steadied himself with a deep breath and headed to the kitchen. As he expected, his mum was stationed behind the counter conducting an elaborate display of food preparation all while chatting with Fleur and wearing an especially festive Christmas pinny.

"Oh, you're here! Happy Christmas, Ronnie."

"Happy Christmas, Mum, Fleur."

"Hello, Ron. Good to see you. I was just going to take these biscuits out to the sitting room," said Fleur as she left the kitchen.

"Can I help, Mum?"

"Oh, no, dear, I have this all under control. Is your father chatting the Grangers' ears off?"

"Probably," Ron laughed. "But they can take it. They seem to be just as enamored with things here as Dad is with things at their house."

"Hard to imagine," she chuckled.

"How's today been?" Ron asked carefully.

"Oh, it's been alright I suppose," she said as she checked the oven. "That Rocks has been a blessing to be sure."

"Isn't he amazing?"

"Yes. And to see him and George together, well – it's both heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time."

"I know," he said softly as he went up and hugged her.

She lingered in the embrace of her youngest son and the wiped her eyes with the corner of her pinny. "Oh, now, I don't want to start with this today, I'd never stop. But I am so proud of you, Ron. I hope you know that."

He smiled and felt his ears turn red as she patted his cheek.

"Now, tell me how was Christmas morning with the Grangers?"

"Well," he laughed, "I actually slept until ten! I couldn't believe Hermione had let me sleep that late. But when I got downstairs I found them all quietly reading the paper and listening to Christmas music on their wireless. They all laughed at my stunned expression."

"Oh, I'm sure," she laughed. "We may have been less chaotic this morning than previous years, but no one could ever describe The Burrow at Christmas as quiet."

"No. Definitely not. Did Rocks stay here last night or at George's flat?"

"They stayed at the flat, but they were here for dinner and then back for breakfast. Poor Rocks, I don't think time changes like that are easy to handle at any age. And after that international floo trip last month and his own Christmas rush he was quite tuckered out. They headed back to the flat earlier for him to rest a bit and should be back shortly."

"Good. But with those two I wonder how much he's sleeping and how much they are concocting ways to invent hilarious gags."

"Hmm. I think we're about to find out based on the ruckus that just came from the sitting room."

Ron nodded and headed with his mum towards the sound of the melee. He soon found Rocks kissing Mrs. Granger under some mistletoe while Mr. Granger pretended to try to bat him off. Ron's heart warmed seeing the joy and hearing the laughter circulate through his childhood home again. Just six months prior he wasn't sure that would ever be possible.

The evening went smoothly, and soon everyone had exchanged presents and enjoyed a proper Molly Weasley Christmas Feast. As the evening wore on, a number of folks were playing a new game Ginny had received for Christmas while others were hearing Rocks' tales from down under. Ron saw Hermione and Harry were quietly talking off to the side, finally getting time for just the two of them since Harry returned from auror training. He mused about how now he could celebrate seeing them together, but only a year ago it would have made him insanely jealous and full of self-doubt. Scanning the room further, he caught the eyes of the person he'd been hoping to snag tonight. With a nod of his head, he grabbed two glasses of Firewhisky and headed to the back porch where Percy soon joined him.

"You, my esteemed brother, are a lifesaver. That idea about the Shakespeare book was bloody brilliant!"

"Went over well, then?"

"I'd say! Turns out they saw that play on their first date, which is one of the reasons they picked the name Hermione. And then I had thought your antique book idea was so brilliant, that I had found an old book by Jane Austen for Hermione, which happened to connect to our first date too. So – yeah – I was a regular Muggle Father Christmas Literary Hero this morning thanks to you! So, thank you so, so much." With that, Ron lifted his glass to his older blushing brother.

"I'm so glad it went well," Percy said. "I enjoyed the chance to sit with Hermione's father at dinner. He is quite a smart man, and seems quite amicable."

"I know. Sometimes I can't believe how lucky I am. But how about you, Perc? Did you get to spend much time with Audrey's family today?"

"You remembered," said Percy in quiet surprise.

"Of course I remembered," Ron said. "I haven't said anything as you said it was on the down low, but I am hoping you two are still seeing other. Are you?"

Percy sighed. "Well, it's sort of complicated."

"Isn't it always?"

"I suppose," laughed Percy.

"So, why isn't Audrey here today?"

"Well, mainly because I didn't invite her."

"Ooooh. Ok. Are you still crazy for her?"

"Yes," said Percy uncomfortably.

"And is she still crazy for you?"

"Yes," Percy replied with a defeated sigh.

"And you aren't doing the stupid thing I did and not saying anything, right?"

"No, no. We know we're both crazy about each other."

"So, since I am not as smart as Hermione, could you please help me understand the issue?"

"Well," Percy said as he took a swig of the amber drink. "It's just, well - I love her. Like really, really love her. And so I only want what is best for her, and frankly I don't think I am that person."

Ron stared at his brother for a moment and then promptly smacked him upside the back of the head.

"Argh! What was that for?" yelped Percy, rubbing his head.

"For being a bloody wanker," Ron said angrily. "Look, I get it – I sure as hell don't think that I am the best choice for Hermione. But, as she keeps repeatedly reminding me, it makes no sense that I think she is bloody brilliant in all other aspects of her life except her ability to choose me."

"Well, right, I suppose if you say it that way, but Ron, my reputation is not what yours is. I don't want to be a burden to her."

Ron smacked him again.

"Quit that, Ronald," Percy huffed.

"Nah. This is one of those things where I am more than qualified to set you straight on this one. And so is Audrey. You have the reputation of someone who risked his career and life to do what was right once he realized he'd made a mistake. You were man enough to admit you were wrong, and you worked to set it right. And now your work – well your and Audrey's work – is allowing justice to be done and families to be reunited. You're a brilliant wizard and a good man, Perce. Kingsley wouldn't put this much faith in you if not for good reason."

"Right, but-"

"No but's, you idiot. Look, you know I fucked up too. You know Hermione loves me anyway. It isn't for us to question the brilliant witches in our lives because they, for reasons that are not for us to understand, love us. All we need to do is be thankful and do all we can to keep them safe, loved and happy."

"But I am messed up, Ron. I don't want to be a weight on her."

"Not your call, Perc," Ron said confidently as he sipped his drink. "That's her decision."

Percy simply grimaced and drank some more.

"Where is she tonight? When did you last see her?"

"Well, I would think she is either at her flat or with her parents in York."

"So go get her, mate."

"No, Ronald. Even if you are right about the need for me to grovel to get her back, I am rather sure me showing up pissed on Christmas night is not the proper way to win her back."

"When did you last see her?"

"About a week ago. When I told her I thought we shouldn't see each other anymore."

"Alright, that's it. Let's go," Ron said as he stood up rapidly, yanking Percy up by his red ears.

"Ronald, really, I don't want to make a scene here or there. And I don't even know where she is at the moment. So if you would please let me go..."

"Yeah, one of two places doesn't seem too hard. Come on. You go to her place or I'm taking you. And if she's not there, we're off to York."

"What?"

"Come on," Ron said as he tugged his bewildered brother back towards the door to the house by his ears.

"Wait, wait. Stop already," Percy commanded as he smacked his arms at his brother trying to get him to release his hold on his ears. "Fine, fine. Ok. I'll go, I'll go, I promise. Just let go of me. I need to go to my place first."

"Cheers. I can take us there," and in a flash Ron had side-alonged he and his brother to Percy's flat.

"Ronald! I could have been splinched!"

"Nah. I'm haven't splinched since this time last year," laughed Ron to his brother's gaping expression. "Now, what are we doing here? Going to go grab a ring you happen to have already purchased or something?" Ron teased.

Percy turned the color of a tomato and couldn't look Ron in the eyes.

"REALLY!? Percy, that's bloody brilliant. Let's see, come on. Go fetch it."

Percy turned on his heel and fled to his bedroom. Ron could hear the sound of him in the bathroom – presumably washing his face and such, he thought. And, before too long a refreshed looking Percy returned carrying a small box and wearing a huge grin.

"That's it, Percy! You love her. I can see it all over your face."

"What if she says no?"

"Then you say you understand and that you'll ask her again once you've proved to her you've got your head all the way out of your arse."

"Too true."

"Alright, do you need a chaperone or something or should I leave you be?"

"Uh, can you stay here while I floo call to figure out where she is and if she'll let me come through?"

"Yeah. I can do that," grinned Ron.

Soon Percy was on his knees with his head stuck into the green flames in his fireplace. "Audrey? Audrey? Are you there? It's Percy."

Ron chuckled to himself when he heard her answer, "I know who you are, you nimwit. It's not like I have been dumped by a whole slew of ridiculous blokes that I am in love with, you know."

"Yes. Right. About that. May I come through?"

"Depends on what you want to say when you get here. If you are going to rile me up on Christmas about all of the bloody absurd reasons I should think you aren't right for me, then no, Percival. You can stay right where you are, thank you very much."

"But, well, what if I wanted to tell you I was wrong? Could I come through then? Please, Audrey, I – well – my brother may have helped knock some sense into me and help me realize I'm being an idiot."

"Which brother is this? He's clearly the smartest one."

"Ron," laughed Percy. "Let's just say he has some personal experience in falling for someone much more amazing that him."

"Hmm. Alright then. I suppose you can come through, you ninny. I've missed you."

"Me too, Love. Me too. I'll be right there."

Percy stood up and started to step into the floo, but quickly looked back at Ron. "Thanks, Ron. You may have just changed my life for the better."

"Nah, it was nothing. Sometimes we just need the people we love to smack us around when we're being stupid. Now, go get your witch. I'll cover for you at home. But let me know tomorrow how it went, alright?"

"Yeah. I will. Thanks, Ronald. For everything," and with that Percy threw down the floo powder and vanished to Audrey's apartment.

Ron smiled and headed back to The Burrow to find his own witch. Today wasn't the day to propose, but he knew it would come soon enough. As he made his way into the house from the back porch, he happened to run into Hermione who was fetching something from the pantry.

"Hey, where have you been hiding? You ok?" she asked in concern.

"Actually, I'm brilliant now that you're here. I was just helping Percy pull his head out of his arse."

"Oh. Alright then. But where is he?"

"Proposing to his girlfriend I believe."

"Percy has a girlfriend?" she gawked.

"Well, yes. But hopefully she'll take pity on him and be his fiancé before too long."

"Have you met her? Has anyone met her?"

"Uh – no."

"How long have they been dating?"

"Well, at least a year, but then Percy broke up with her last week."

"WHAT? And now he's proposing?"

"Turns out believing the witches we love would be better off with someone else is a curse afflicting multiple Weasley Wizards."

"Ahhh. Now I see."

"But don't worry – I set him straight and shared what you have, uh, beat into my head."

"I didn't beat it into your head," she said with a laugh as she playfully smacked his head.

"See! Just there!"

"Stop rambling on and just kiss me already," she said. He grinned and quickly obliged.

Before long they rejoined the party in the sitting room and visited with everyone there. Hermione was quickly drawn into a conversation with Fleur as Bill cornered Ron.

"Where did Percy go? I thought I saw you two sneak out the back, but haven't seen him since. He's not doing anything stupid is he?"

Ron laughed, "Well, it depends on your perspective, I suppose. He had to go grovel to get back his girl."

"Percy has a girl?" Bill asked, truly surprised.

"Yeah. They've been together for a year, but the only one who has met her is Dad, but he never knew they were together."

"Well, what do you know?" mused Bill.

Just as he spoke, the fireplace lit up, and soon Percy came through the green flames, quickly followed by a smiling witch with long brown hair.

"Well, Audrey, this is a quite a welcome surprise," said Arthur as he stood to greet her. "Welcome and Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Weasley," the witch said as the rest of the room grew quiet.

"Percy?" said Mrs. Weasley as she approached the young woman. "Please introduce us all to your lovely friend."

"Dad, Mum, everyone, sorry for the interruption," Percy stuttered. "But I would like all of you to meet Ms. Audrey Mileham-"

"Welcome to The Burrow," Molly started to say before Percy cut her off.

"...my fiancé."

"WHAT?" gawked George, with Mrs. Weasley close behind him.

Percy, blushing and holding Audrey's hand said, "I know. I am sorry this is a bit of a shock. I should have brought her here before now. But, we've been together for a year now, and she's helped me through so much. I proposed tonight, and she, quite wisely, said she would only say yes once I had introduced her to my family. So I pretty much dragged her straight through the floo to come here."

Audrey was blushing and quickly added, "I'm really happy to meet all of you. Happy Christmas!"

"So now that you've met everyone, that that's a yes then?" Percy asked her nervously.

"Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Percy Weasley," she beamed.

And with that, the room erupted into noise as people rushed to congratulate the couple, meet Audrey and gawk at how all of them had missed Percy's secret romantic life. Ron stood at the edge of the fray and grinned as he saw how happy Percy and Audrey both were. It wasn't too long before his father quietly came up beside him.

"Any particular reason, Ronald, why you seem to be the only one in the room who doesn't seem to be surprised at Percy's announcement this evening?" Arthur asked with a smirk.

"Well," Ron laughed. "I haven't met her before. But I did know he was going over there to propose this evening. I'm just glad it's turned out so well. She's good for him. And he needs some happiness in his life, so I am thrilled for them."

"I am as well. She is a lovely, lovely witch. But, Percy's not the only one who deserves happiness, you know."

"I'm happy, Dad," Ron protested. "Hermione is doing so much better now, and the shop had a great Christmas season. And Rocks is here and George looks full of life again. And Mum is doing well, too..."

"Yes, Ron. They are all doing amazingly well, largely thanks to you. But you can't use every scrap of energy you have making sure everyone else is ok. Be sure to save some of that energy for yourself. Do what makes you happy."

"Dad, from where my life was 12 months ago tonight, I could not have pictured being even a fraction as happy as I am today. I am finally with Hermione, and someday I may even get to be an auror. Both of those are dreams I never imagined could come true."

"I know, son. And those are wonderful things. But, while everyone else has taken time to heal from last year, you have shouldered all of the responsibility for taking care of Hermione and George as they healed, not to mention your mother and myself. It's alright, I don't mean to insinuate anything is wrong. I just want you to allow yourself some space to heal and get renewed, as it will definitely catch up with you at some point if you don't do it now."

"Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it. But I'm fine. Really."

"Yes, well, that's wonderful then. Any engagement news coming from you anytime soon?"

"Well, not yet anyway," Ron said. "We know we are headed that way. Though, between Australia, the shop, Hermione's health and the kidnapping, well, we haven't had a lot of time to even think about it. But, her NEWTs are done now, and she's doing so well, hopefully we can just enjoy normal life for a while."

"Hah!" Arthur laughed. "I'm not sure you two would know normal life it hit you in the head with a broom."

"Probably true," Ron agreed. "But we're good, Dad. Best we've been in a long, long time."

"Glad to hear it, son."

Arthur headed off to see to the others in the room, and as Ron watched, Percy caught his eye. Ron could see the emotion, joy and gratitude in his eye. Percy simply put his hand over his heart and nodded his thanks, and Ron lifted his glass to him in reply.

Another moment that couldn't have been imagined 12 months before, thought Ron. He realized so much was better, but then glanced George and Rocks and had a pang of guilt realizing no matter how good it was, some wounds might never heal.

"Oh Freddie," sighed Ron. "You should fucking be here. But I hope you and Al have hooked up with the Marauders and are raising all kinds of hell up there." With that, he downed the rest of his glass and left in on the table to go join the festivities.

Late that night as he and Hermione were getting into bed back at her parents' house, Ron flopped into bed with a sigh.

"I'm exhausted," he sighed. "I know I got to sleep late and all, but honestly spending the day with every single relative we each have has drained me."

"Well, we didn't see your Auntie Muriel, but I do know what you mean," she smiled as she crawled into bed next to him.

"Well, thank Merlin for small miracles."

"But relative overload is kind part of the deal when we live with one of our parents, you know?"

"Yup. I know. And I'm so grateful for that. You know I am. But I would love to go the whole day tomorrow and see no one but you."

"Well, I don't know that I can make that happen. But I think I can get us close."

"Yeah? How?"

"Well, what if we spent Boxing Day at Grimmauld Place. We don't have to do any actual work there tomorrow – just lounge about. And my bet is that Harry will stay at The Burrow most of the time to be with Ginny. And even if they do come over – we can handle those two, don't you think?"

Ron grinned. "I think I have the most brilliant witch in the world." He kissed her goodnight and soon they were both fast asleep.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

The next morning they had a leisurely breakfast with her parents, but let them know they were going to be spending the next day and night at Grimmauld Place getting things ready for their move, but they assured them they would be back the following day to enjoy some more of the holiday together before school started back up. Hermione had packed a bag of their things to take over and most likely leave in their new place, and by mid-morning they stepped out of the floo and into the newly re-done sitting room at their soon to be new home.

Ron was quiet for a moment.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked. "You look a bit bewildered or something."

"It's just – well – we don't have to do anything, do we? I don't think I've been here before and not immediately run off to paint something or install something or cobble something together. We can just enjoy it now. And, when I look at it that way it just struck me that we get to live in a really lovely home. I guess I hadn't taken a moment to look at it before."

"You've worked so hard, Ron. You've done an amazing job. You should be really proud of yourself."

"Well, it's not like it's really our home or anything. Harry's just being nice and letting us live here for a while."

"RON!" she yelped in exasperation as she punched his arm.

"Ouch! What was that for? You've been spending too much time with Ginny. You aren't usually so violent and then she comes home and you're beating me up all of a sudden!"

"Oh please," she scoffed. "You won't even get a bruise and you know it. But I won't stand for your nonsense. I just won't have it. You have worked your tail off. Harry was lucky to have you. Do you have any idea how much he would have had to spend to pay someone else to do everything you did?"

"Ok don't hit me, but it really wasn't much."

"Not true!" she insisted. "And not only did he not have to pay you, but it's not like he would have trusted just anyone in here. I'm not saying you should send him a bill or anything, but you need to realize you have given him a ton so stop acting like it's nothing."

He went to respond, but the challenging way she arched her eyebrows at him and pursed her lips tightly convinced him a change of subject may be in order.

"So, I loved the idea of this Boxing Day tradition of hiding from our collective families," he said with a smile.

"Well, yeah, it is brilliant. I love our families, but there are a lot of people we are collectively related to!"

"Maybe we could make this the first inaugural Hideaway Boxing Day."

"I love that," she said softly. "Huh. Our first holiday tradition that is just our own."

He'd said it on a whim, but as he looked down at her he could see how her features softened and he could tell she was suddenly picturing years of Boxing Days together. Just the two of them. And then with their own kids. And then kicking the kids and grandkids out to have their own day again. And in that one moment the potential of their life together hit him like a tidal wave. And suddenly words weren't capable of capturing any of the emotion swirling in him. She felt his shift in breath and looked into his eyes, catching her own breath at his expression.

He reached softly for her face and held her cheek as she stared at him, both of then blinking back a myriad of emotions each fighting to bubble up to the top.

"I love you so much," he finally whispered. "And I know you know that. But sometimes it just feels like it would be impossible for you to really grasp how much..." his voice trailed off. He blinked and tried again to explain, adding, "But then, then there are moments when I think that maybe you do..."

"I do, Ron. I do. And I love you just as much. And it's intoxicating and terrifying and bewildering and yet reassuring and grounding all at the same time." She smiled as she lifted her hand to brush his fringe away. "And while we're still teenagers it all feels – feels..."

"Like a lifetime," he offered, his voice quiet and gravelly.

"Exactly," she breathed out as she stretched up on her tip toes to capture his lips. "The start of our lifetime together."

With that he let the satchel he'd been carrying on his shoulder drop to the ground as he felt his passion for her rush through him.

"Fuck, I love you," he said as he pulled her close to him tightly with his hand at her back and then kissed her solidly. She finally had to pull back to take a breath, but she didn't let her grip on his shirt go, so she ended up pulling him with her as she staggered towards a sofa in the sitting room.

"Me too," she said. "Can you apperate us to our new room?" she gasped.

"Mmmhmm," he hummed as he turned them on the spot.

They landed on their bed with an ungraceful thump, causing her nose to bash against his forehead with a loud crack.

"OW!" she cried, instantly reaching for her nose.

"Oh no, did I hurt you?" he gasped. One glance at her face with a bloody, broken nose confirmed his fear. "Oh God, I am so sorry, Hermione!"

"It's ok," she whimpered. "It's as much my fault as yours. But it hurts pretty bad, can you fix it?"

"Me? Don't you want me to get my mum or Fleur or someone more skilled with healing spells?"

"NO! Dammit, Ron, just get out your wand and fix it, please. For the millionth time, I trust you!"

"Ok, ok, right, sorry," he muttered, reaching for his wand.

"Blimey, you're worse than Harry sometimes," she tried to laugh, but the movement clearly made her wince.

He ignored her and concentrated on his wand movements as he healed her broken nose and then summoned a damp flannel to clean the blood. He was holding her gently behind the neck and softly wiping the blood and tears from her cheek.

"Better?" he asked in a whisper.

"Much," she sniffed. "Thank you."

He leaned his forehead against hers and then planted a gentle, chaste kiss on her cheek.

"Bit of a mood killer, huh?" she giggled.

He chuckled, and bent to kiss her forehead again.

"Maybe we could just lounge in bed and maybe kip a bit?" she suggested.

"Something I am always open to," he grinned.

They spooned up together on their new bed, Ron running his fingers through her messy locks. They lay in the quiet for a long time, but neither dozed.

"Feels like stealing time from the world, doesn't it?" Hermione whispered.

"Hmm?"

"For so long we were running or working or hunting or healing, but now we get to just be. And the problems of the world are still out there. It's just – for a few minutes they aren't our problems to hold."

"Hmm," he agreed. "Like hiding out under the invisibility cloak or something."

"Yeah – well – this is slightly roomier and more comfortable. I can't believe all three of us used to be able to fit under that thing with room to spare," she giggled.

"That didn't last long, did it?"

"No, most assuredly not."

"You had to fall for the freakishly tall one."

"You're not a freak."

"Yeah – well, I don't actually think I've stopped growing taller yet."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but I'm pretty sure I have."

"You don't say," he smirked.

"Although, maybe my hair will just get bushier and bigger as I age, so then I could be as tall as you, but you would just be embarrassed to be seen with me," she teased.

"Hermione," he said in a serious tone, "you have no idea, do you?"

"Uh? No idea of what?"

She felt his body rumble with a low laugh before he spoke. "Well, let's just say your unforgettable hair is one of the first things that clued me into the fact that I no longer thought of you only as a friend."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, craning her neck around to try to see his face, but managing to move a mass of her curls straight into his nose instead.

He laughed again and blew a quick puff of air out of his mouth to move the curls. "Well, for the longest time my – uh – inappropriate dreams all involved snogging someone with massive curly, bushy hair. It took me a while to realize it was you, but each night it was some variation of that. I was whipped early, my dear."

"Seriously? Your earliest sexual fantasies were this?" she shook her hair in his face laughing.

"Well, maybe something more like this," he laughed as he rolled her over and covered her in slobbering, wet kisses while running his hands through her curls as she laughed.

"Oh my," she giggled. "I guess I am glad it took us a while to finally talk to each other then. I am not sure I think I would have found that approach quite as arousing as you did at that age."

"Right," he laughed. "What about you, then? What were your first naughty dreams of me? Was I reading you chapters from History of Magic texts?"

"No," she said as she playfully swotted him. "No, I was having – uh – much more respectable – and certainly more alluring – dreams of snogging a handsome, though temporarily faceless, ginger bloke in the library who may have had pale skin and delicious freckles who tasted a bit like chocolate frogs.'

"Delicious freckles?" he scoffed. "Were you licking me like an ice lolly or something?"

"Oh please," she laughed, a blush creeping up her neck. "I was thirteen. There was assuredly no licking going on. But, then I would wake up and chastise myself about the whole thing. Once I even tried to convince myself I was just dreaming about you because I spent so much time with you. So then I tried to picture kissing a faceless boy with messy raven hair and green eyes."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said shaking her head in disgust. "I made such an awful noise of disgust that Pavarti thought I was about to be sick and summoned a basin for me to throw up in."

"That is not true," he protested.

"Ahh, if only it weren't. But, I am ashamed to say, it totally is. I had to pretend to feel terrible afterwards and didn't even go to the library that night. You can ask Pavarti."

"Well, if you were sick enough to skip the library then the thought of snogging Harry must have been pretty bad."

"Well don't you get nauseas at the thought of snogging him?"

"Yeah, well, I do. But I am guessing for different reasons. I don't snog any of my siblings."

"Me either, you prat," she said with a glint in her eye. "See, same reason, same response."

Then she pinched him on his bum to emphasize her point, which only made him do the same. Pretty soon, they were rough housing on the bed and laughing hysterically, causing the bed to rattle against the wall.

"Now look, Kreacher is going to think we are up to all kinds of licentious behavior in here with that racket, and all we're doing is laughing at how short I am."

"Good Godric, witch, you need to remember who you're with sometimes and not use those giant words if you want me to know what you are talking about."

She turned in his arms so she was facing him, and then traced her finger down his nose like a vixen.

"Licentious, Mister Weasley," she explained, drawing out her words slowly, "means immoral or shameless or immodest – even lustful." She whispered the last word against his ear, letting her tongue slightly graze his skin.

"Hmm," he mumbled as he moved his lips to hers. "Licentious, huh? Could be my new favorite word."

"New word for a new year?" she suggested.

"1999 is going to be a good year," he assured her as he stroked her arm.

"We've come a long way, Weasley," she said as she moved his hand up to her lips to kiss it. "I am counting on 1999 being the beginning of our happily ever after."

"Nah," he scoffed.

"What?" she said, affronted.

"Our happily ever after started the day we met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. We have had more than our share of rough chapters during our rough start, but I guaran-damn-tee you that this story has a happily-ever after ending."

"How are you so sure?" she asked earnestly.

"Because I love you. And I am finally in a place where I know you love me just as much. And no matter what crazy trolls or acromantulas or messed up teenage hormones or psychopathic dark wizards you throw at us, that will never change. And it doesn't hurt that you're pretty damn gorgeous and brilliant to boot," he added as he leaned down to kiss her.

She kissed him softly and then pulled back to gaze at those blue eyes she adored.

"I used to be scared of loving you so much," she admitted.

"And now?"

"Hmm," she said. "Brace yourself. I'm going to go all swotty for a moment."

He snickered. "Something new and different, huh?"

"Shut it, you," she teased. "At least I am growing and can now recognize it and give you fair warning. Anyway, back to my point. Did you know that in Latin, _cor_ means heart? Basically, you can't have courage without love. And, really, that's what saved us both when we almost gave into the fear and terror and lost sight of each other at different times over the past few years. But, our love for each other allowed us to come back to each other every time no matter what we risked to ourselves. Knowing that your heart is out there loving me, well, it gives me courage. Your love makes me brave. And, maybe mine makes you brave."

"You're brilliant, you know?"

"Don't tease," she said. "I was making a point."

"I wasn't teasing," he said in a dead serious tone. "You are brilliant, and everyone knows it. But, I fell in love with your heart and your passion and your commitment and dedication and kindness. Your brilliance is just a bonus. But, yeah, I think you're right. Love is at the heart of courage. And I would say this pair of brave Gryffindors is bloody courageous. I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, Ron."

She grinned as he kissed her deeply, and she hummed in appreciation as she felt his hands begin to roam over her. She flung her leg over his was soon straddling him.

"Hmm, on top, huh?" he mumbled between kisses.

"Uh huh," she moaned. "Easier on my nose," she smirked.

"Oi!" he protested as he rolled her onto her back. "Easier on my nose, huh? You'll pay for that one."

"Really?" she said doubtfully.

"Oh yeah," he said.

Twenty minutes later Hermione was writhing in that limbo between agony and ecstasy, "Oh, God, please, Ron. I can't take this any longer."

"Told you I'd make you pay," he scoffed. Then he kissed her once more before entering her and finally giving her the release she sought.

They both moaned at the sensation, and he was quickly thrusting into her.

"Harder," she commanded.

"Don't want to hurt you," he grimaced.

"Trust me, it's what I want...what I need. Harder," she pleaded.

"Fuck," he swore as he began pounding into her as he never had before.

She came first, but he quickly followed. They lay there panting, still gripping each other tightly as they regained their breath. Finally she allowed her head to lull back onto the pillow and moved her hand to brush the sweaty fringe out of his eyes.

"That. Was. Amazing," she finally said, tracing her finger across his face in a failing attempt to touch all of his freckles.

He didn't say anything for a moment, but then a wicked grin game across his face. "Amazing, huh? Damn. I was going for licentious."

With that they both collapsed in laughter, spooning up together again and falling asleep.

-FIN Book 1-

 _ **(A/N: Thank you so mu** **ch for sticking with the story! I have to confess that I had initially thought it would be 100+ chapters, but as I wrote it, I realized that the story arch of Hermione and Ron that I really wanted to tell was better told in three parts over three different time periods. I have started on the second book, and I have an outline of the third. But, I make no promises of when I will get those posted. I am thinking of playing around with a series of short stories that aren't set in either the UFM or ATHOC universes. So, don't be surprised if you see some small stories popping up. And, finally, I have been playing around with stories and characters of my own unrelated to any fanfiction. I may try to publish and share those eventually, but not yet.**_

 _ **Thank you soooo much to all of you who take the time to review and message me. I can't tell you what a difference those comments make. I know I am the worst at replying to any of the comments, but please know that I really do cherish and appreciate them, and they are absolutely so motivating.**_

 _ **So I'll say farewell for the time being, and I hope to see you when I publish the later parts of the trilogy when I am finally able to get them from my head to the screen. Thanks again for all of the encouragement...carrytheotter)**_


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